


Cards Close to Your Chest

by megamindful



Series: Hearts on Our Sleeves [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, kryptonite play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-09-30 22:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megamindful/pseuds/megamindful
Summary: In a world where soulmates are matched with a mark on their wrists, Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are bare-wristed. They’ve chosen each other. However, not everyone is happy with that decision.





	1. You Are Doing Well Lately

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read the first part in this series, you've got some homework to do.

“After last meeting I am glad to see all of us well and accounted for.” Diana nodded to the faces around the table.

“Doctor Destiny has been dealt with, his memories of our minds erased.” J’onn tempered. “However, we cannot risk another attack of that nature.” 

“Yes, and it’s only a matter of time before someone else orchestrates an attack on us,  _ so…” _ Clark motioned to Bruce. 

“The construction of our new base of operations is already underway.”

“Where’s it going to be?” Cyborg asked.

“Space.” Bruce said matter of factly.

“Space?” Hawkgirl cocked her head.

“Yes, space.” Clark intervened. “It’ll be a lot harder for anyone to sneak in through the vents on a space station.” 

“And a lot harder to _get there._ ” Flash’s thoughts were racing. “Can’t exactly _run_ to ‘ _space.’”_

“And there is no convenient nearby water source connected to the ocean.” Aquaman pointed out the obvious.

“If I may interject?” J’onn looked to Bruce who nodded. “The technology of my people was far beyond current human advancement. Years ago I recovered some building specifications on teleportation chambers. They are finally ready for more practical usage. We may use these teleporters to travel back and forth to the new base with relative ease.”

“Access points will be put into place in secure locations around the globe, allowing only authorized personnel to travel through them.” Bruce elaborated.

“This seems like…” Aquaman scratched his beard, “a  _ lot. _ ”

“It has always been the plan to get a more secure location and hosting our base outside of the bounds of any particular country helps us avoid partisan politics.” Bruce said through experience.

“And being in a space station helps us maintain contact with off planet alliances.” Clark added.

“Like the Lantern Corps.” Hal nodded.

“And anticipate interplanetary attacks or potential invaders.” Bruce finished. “We’ve had too many unanticipated alien conquerors land on Earth in the past year alone. Monitoring from space will allow us to be more proactive in handling these situations efficiently.”

This explanation seemed to appease those who had their issues with the idea and a thoughtful calm settled over the table.

“Then,” Diana broke the silence, “are we all in favor of the new base?”

Nods and resounding “yes”s broke out between the nine members. Bruce looked to Clark across the table and caught him smiling softly at him. Bruce smiled back.

After catching up on everyone’s reports the meeting adjourned. Bruce gathered his notes and headed to the break room. This was going to be the last time they would use the office building. It held many memories. Those fond and those hard to think of. The hallway by the helicopter pad still put Bruce on edge.

Bruce poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the cabinets. Clark walked in beside Cyborg, having some conversation about his cybernetic enhancements. Clark flashed him a smile and Bruce responded with a curt lift of his cup.

Bruce didn’t interrupt or join in. He was fine with just observing and enjoying his coffee. He could barely feel the warmth from the cup past his gauntlets.

“Batman! You are doing well lately, I wager.” Diana strode up next to him.

“Yes. I expect the same with you, Diana?”

“Yes.” She smiled wide and glanced over at Clark, speaking softer. “I am happy to see that you and Superman have gotten over your differences.”

“Mm. I apologize for our behavior last meeting. It was completely unprofessional.” 

“Not to worry. It happens to the best of us.”

“Apparently.” Bruce took a sip.

“May I ask a personal question?”

“Depends on the question, but go ahead.”

“You and Clark… Are you each other’s-”

“Kryptonians don’t have soulmates.” Bruce replied bluntly. “But to answer your question: We  _ are  _ seeing each other... And not looking for anyone else.”

“Ah, I see.” Diana nodded and her mouth bloomed into a smile. “I wish you two all the happiness in the world, Batman.”

“Thank you, Diana.”

* * *

 

The blow to Clark’s stomach sent him reeling. Another hit to his shoulder and he tumbled to the floor, gasping for breath. His sides ached and his throat burned. The kryptonite latched on his ankle throbbed dully.

“Get up.” Bruce stalked over to him, staff at the ready.

“Give me a damn second.” Clark’s head was pounding and his throat ran dry.

“They want you dead. They won’t stop.”

The wooden staff slammed down on the mat where Clark used to be. He rolled into a defensive crouch, wobbling in place with vertigo. Bruce swept at his legs and Clark fell hard with a grunt. The end of the staff nudged his neck.

“You’re dead. Again.” Bruce stood over him stoic, not a hair out of place on his head.

“I  _ feel  _ dead.” Clark was drenched in sweat, they’d been going at it for hours now. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”

“No.” Bruce tossed the staff away and helped Clark up. “You wouldn’t stand a chance like this.”

“I’ll get better.”

“Mm.”

“Can you take this damn thing off me now, please?”

“No.” Bruce slid back into a defensive stance.

“ _ Bruce.  _ I don’t have to worry about  _ someone else _ killing me if you’re just going to run me into the ground-OW.” Clark rubbed his arm where Bruce roundhouse kicked him.

“Can we have dinner at some point?” Dick called from the cracked open door. “You said you guys were going to eat with us.”

“Dick!” Clark jogged over to him, breath ragged. “Quick, take this off me.”

Dick looked over at Bruce stalking over and took the anklet off as fast as he could, throwing it in Bruce’s direction. Clark immediately felt better, his powers returning to him.

“Clark, get us out of here!”

Clark lifted him up and booked it to the dining room, Dick laughing the whole way. Clark put him down in his seat. Alfred had everything already set on the long table. As always, it was more than enough food, impeccably presented.

“Master Bruce isn’t running you too ragged, I hope?”

“He’s doing his best.”

Something smacked Clark on the top of the head.

“Hey!” He whipped around to see Bruce and that damn wooden staff. It didn’t hurt, but he hadn’t heard him sneaking up behind him at all. He’d have to blame how good Alfred’s cooking looked.

“What good are those super senses of yours?” 

“They detect  _ danger.” _

“ _Master Bruce,_ _no weapons at the table.”_

Dick snickered behind his hand.

After the night Clark and Bruce had rekindled their relationship, Clark had taken to spending most of his free hours at the mansion. Bruce was insistent on training him and Clark found there wasn’t much reason to go back to his apartment. Over the last few weeks, it had basically turned into a glorified storage unit.

The mansion was also the one place Clark felt he could be unabashedly himself. There was wiggle room to use his powers in privacy without the public eye on him. And of course there was Bruce.

It was still novel to just be allowed to be close to him whenever he wanted. He could put a hand on his back and Bruce would lean into it. A hand on his face and Bruce would tug him down to kiss him. Clark had never had something like this before. Or rather,  _ someone. _ Someone he could just be himself around, the  _ real  _ Clark, and not be afraid of what they were going to think or how they were going to respond. Being with Bruce was... comfortable. Only, that word just didn’t feel adequate to describe what he felt. 

Even with Bruce training him so hard, he knew at the core of it was Bruce’s worry for him. It was grueling, but Clark saw the value in it. At this point he  _ was  _ useless without his powers. And really it was only a matter of time before he was caught with kryptonite again, no matter how careful he tried to be. Speaking of careful...

After dinner, Clark pulled Bruce along by the hand. There was something he needed to talk to him about.

Dick whistled at them, Clark’s attempt at subtlety failing horribly. He was in a house full of detectives, what was he expecting?

“I just want to talk!”

“Sure you do, Clark.” Dick winked. “Don’t worry, I won’t let Alfred know what you kids are up to.”

“I don’t know who taught him to behave this way.” Bruce shook his head.

“I learned it by watching you!”

Bruce smiled and threaded his fingers with Clark’s.

“Come on.” Bruce led him into a study down the hall. He went to kiss him, misinterpreting the move the same as Dick had, but stopped at Clark’s fidgeting. “What is it?”

“My parents called the other day…”

“Uh-huh?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“And I  _ may  _ have let it slip that I’m  _ seeing someone... _ ”

“You weren’t more specific?”

“No… They want to meet you, but I wasn’t sure _which_ ‘you’ they should meet.”

“You’ve done some thinking on this. Walk me through it.” Bruce leaned against the couch.

“Well, if I introduce you as Batman it could be a bit awkward- or intimidating. And if I introduce you as Bruce Wayne, that’ll lead to questions of  _ how _ , and  _ why _ , and they’ll probably realize there’s more going on with _ that _ . So, I couldn’t decide- and  _ anyway _ it should be  _ your  _ choice as to how they should know you. If you’re comfortable with them knowing you at all, that is. It might be too soon for any of this anyway-”

“Clark.”

“Yes?”

“Do you trust your parents?”

“Of course!”

“They’re not secretly evil clones sent by Luthor or some alien warlord to destroy the Earth?”

“ _ No.”  _ Clark laughed.

“Then introduce me as both.”

Clark blinked.

“Are you sure?”

“They’ve managed to keep an alien invader a secret from the world for thirty-five years, got him a birth-certificate and a social security number, and kept his super-human powers under wraps through all of public school. Keeping  _ my  _ identity a secret is going to be child’s play for them.”

“You make them out to sound like... rebel government conspirators.”

“They aren’t?”

“Shut up!”

Bruce crowded into Clark’s space.

“Make me.”

Clark kissed the smug smile off his face, before pulling back.

“So, you want to meet my parents?”

“It’s only fair. You met my Alfred.”

Clark chuckled, holding Bruce tighter.

“Speaking of Alfred, we should do something nice for him.”

Bruce cocked his head slightly.

“I feel like he never gets a break.”

“Alright… What do you have in mind?”

* * *

 

“Sir, again I will try to tell you that this is completely unnecessary.” Alfred reluctantly followed Bruce down the stairs to where Clark was waiting.

“And again, Alfred, I will tell you that this isn’t up for discussion. Besides, I can take care of myself.” Bruce set the luggage down in the foyer.

“That remains to be seen.”

“ _ Alfred _ , it’s just for a week.” A week of enforced relaxation on a secluded Italian villa, no less. The man was acting like they were sending him off to do hard labor.

“You hardly need that much time to get yourself killed. You’ve accomplished more impressive feats than that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping a close eye on him.” Clark slung an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “Make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

Alfred eyed them both, finally sighing.

“As much as I would like to trust you two to take care of yourselves, neither of you know your way around a scalpel… I know it’s been awhile, Master Bruce, but if you should need her, Dr. Thompkins is still at the clinic on Park Row.”

“Dr. Thompkins?” Clark cut in.

“Family friend.”

“ _ Family.  _ Leslie  _ is _ your godmother, Bruce. _ ”  _

“Family or not, she made it clear last time she doesn’t want to be responsible for Batman’s mistakes.”

“If it comes to it, you won’t have much choice. But perhaps a visit when you are  _ not bleeding out _ would be appreciated.”

Clark found himself a third wheel in a staring contest.

“Well,” He patted Bruce’s shoulder and let his hand drop. “I may not have super healing, but I  _ can _ make a competent meal. Your boy won’t go hungry on my watch, sir.”

Bruce squinted at him. ‘ _ Your boy?’ _

Clark just shrugged at him.  _ Is that inaccurate? _

“I  _ suppose _ you’ll be capable of surviving the week without me.” Alfred relented to Bruce then turned to Clark. “Don’t let him order any of that _ food substitute  _ and make sure the plants get watered.”

“Will do.”

“Good. Then I’m off to galavant in the sun and whatnot. _Au revoir._ And _ please  _ do try not to get yourselves killed before I return.”

* * *

 

“You’re dead!” Clark laughed with labored breath, Bruce pinned below him.

“I would just be unconscious.”

“Just admit I beat you, please, this has been weeks in the making.”

“You pinned me  _ once. _ Congratulations.” Bruce smirked. “Now I get to stop going so easy on you.”

“You were _ not-”  _ Clark got cut off, feeling Bruce’s leg slide against his crotch. “Is this some kind of… distraction tactic?”

“Is it working?”

It was definitely distracting. Mostly because Clark couldn’t tell whether the advance was genuine or a way for Bruce to weasel out of the hold and start knocking Clark around again.

“Does this have... practical fighting applications?”

“You’d be surprised.” Bruce’s eyes were half-lidded. He thrust up slow, dragging his thigh against Clark.

Clark closed his eyes and could imagine them on top of some skyscraper, Batman arching underneath him. He swallowed. 

“Can I have my hands back, Clark?”

“...What are you going to do with them?”

Bruce just smiled, exhaling with a slow close of his eyes, continuing to rock up against Clark. If this was a trick, he was falling for it.

Clark released his hold, putting his hands on either side of Bruce’s head. Bruce moved his hands slow as if going any faster would startle Clark away. They trailed light across his hips. Clark squirmed, ticklish.

_ Ticklish? That’s new. _

Bruce pulled the loose shirt off of him so he could glide his fingertips down his neck, chest, ribs. Clark shivered. Bruce’s smile quirked up. He cupped Clark’s pecs and circled his thumbs around his nipples. Clark’s eyes fluttered closed. While he wasn’t paying attention, Bruce pulled him down, head ducking up to lave where his thumb left. He sucked and all of Clark’s resolve crumbled. There was something about the kryptonite and now gentle Bruce was being that turned him into a jittering mess. His arms shook and his fingers scrabbled at the mat.

“You’re shaking.” Bruce nipped at him.

“I- _ ah- know. _ ” Clark slid down to his elbows, his hands no longer keeping him steady.

Bruce tugged at his hair. Clark bared his neck and Bruce kissed and sucked, biting the flesh around his jugular.

“Ah!” Clark ground down on Bruce’s leg, eyes screwed shut. He wanted it to bruise.

Clark yelped, flipped over onto his back. Bruce was all over him, kissing, biting, sucking, raking his blunt nails down his sides. All Clark could do was hold onto him and breathe through the gasps. Bruce only stopped his onslaught to shirk off Clark’s sweats and pull a small bottle out of his own pocket.

_ Lube? _

“Bruce  _ why-” _

“Are you complaining?”

“No, just-”

“Then don’t worry about it.” Bruce squeezed his thigh as he lifted Clark’s leg up and to the side.

“Ok...”

_ You were prepared for this? You were honestly prepared for this? _

Bruce’s shit eating grin confirmed his suspicions.

_ You  _ were  _ going easy on me, asshole. _

All room for thought was pushed out as Bruce opened him up methodically. Clark panted and whined, clenching around him. Clark felt like an exposed nerve, shaking and shivering at the slightest touch. Bruce kissed him just below his navel and Clark’s stomach flipped. He arched up with a moan.

“You’re cute like this.”

“Sh-shut up.” 

Bruce finally took out his slick fingers and drove into him. If Bruce was going easy on him when they were fighting, he definitely wasn’t now. Clark was a mess under him, his gasps and moans completely unrestrained. The dull pain and pleasure Bruce’s dick pulled out of him was intoxicating. The thought hit Clark then that he’d never trust anyone else to do this to him. That only made him writhe more.

_ I love you. I love you. Iloveyou. _

Clark can only manage to yell and grip Bruce closer, pulling him down against him.

Bruce’s breath pounded heavy against the side of Clark’s head, punctuating each deep thrust. Bruce’s stomach brushed against Clark’s cock and Clark rolled into it. He came on a strangled yell, grunting and savoring each thrust until Bruce came inside him. Bruce’s arm curled around his head, bared teeth at his neck, breath curling low into a growl.

“ _ Fuck.”  _ Clark’s heart was still racing. “ _ Bruce. _ ” 

“Huh?”

_ “I love you.” _

Bruce laughed quick through his nose.

“I know.” Bruce kissed his forehead, then got up. Practically with a spring in his step.

Clark tried to follow him, but he felt so heavy. Moving his head made him realize his ears felt like they were blocked with cotton.

“I can’t get up.” Clark closed his eyes, feigning sleep. 

He heard Bruce walk away, then come back. The familiar wood tapped his throat.

“You’re dead.”

“Oh no. You beat me. How could this have happened?”

“There were several moments there where you left yourself vulnerable to attack.”

“Name  _ one. _ ” Clark squinted at him before breaking and bursting into laughter with Bruce. 

Clark eased to a stop and felt like he could fall asleep right there, spread eagle on the mat.

Bruce stooped down and unclasped the kryptonite anklet, locking it back in its lead box. On his next breath, Clark felt lighter.

“Come on,” Bruce held his hand out for him, “we need a shower.”


	2. I've Done Worse With Less

The thunder was just starting up. Bruce crouched on the edge of the roof, scanning the horizon. His wrist vibrated. A message from Clark.

-I miss you-

Bruce shook his head and tapped out his response.

                    -This line is for emergencies.-

-And?-

                    -I’ve been gone an hour.-

-Still miss you-

                    -Needy.-

\- :’( -

Bruce considered going home early. Aside from the oncoming storm, the night had been quiet. Then, the bat-signal projected across the rumbling clouds.

He made his way to the precinct, swiftly landing in the shadows. Commissioner Gordon stood looking out at the city, smoke billowing off his breath.

“That’ll kill you, you know.”

Gordon jumped, his cigarette falling to the ground. He sighed and snuffed it out with his shoe.

“So will _that.”_ Gordon gestured to Bruce’s everything. His arm twitched up to take another drag out of habit before he remembered. “Joker left you a note.”

It was stuck into the metal border on the signal. A children’s card with a happy little cartoon clown on it. “You’re Invited!” written in bubble letters.

Bruce dislodged the evidence and flipped it open.

‘Having a little shindig. Be there or be square! P.S. Wear your best suit!’

It was signed with a lipstick stained kiss and reeked of some kind of cologne.

Gordon walked over.

“The address is-”

“The Lotte. Penthouse suite.”

“You’ve been?”

“I know of it.”

He knew it well. Bruce Wayne had had several exclusive parties in that suite. It was a whole wing of the resort. It could easily fit a hundred guests or more depending on how wild of a night you wanted.

“What do you think?”

“Could be a hostage situation. I’ll scope the place out and let you know. Have some discreet backup at the ready.”

“Could be a trap.”

“It’s always a trap.”

Trap or not, it was a convincing party. Batman perched on the skyscraper across the way and zoomed in with the display on lenses of the cowl. Neon strobed from the floor to ceiling windows. The deck was full of people smoking and drinking, the pool left unused from the cold. But, given a few more drinks, people were bound to start jumping or pushing each other in.

The inside was packed with people dancing or falling over each other. Finding Joker in the crowd was proving more difficult than usual. All of the guests wore some kind of white mask over part of their face.

Then, a purple suit sparkled under the lights. He peacocked through the guests, smoothly jumping from person to person. Charming his way through his audience. Half his face was masked with a healthy skin toned makeup. He’d been using his time efficiently if he orchestrated this whole thing himself. Joker had escaped from Arkham just two days ago.

Bruce radioed Gordon.

“Commissioner. Joker is hosting about a hundred twenty guests. No hostages yet, but the place could be rigged.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Go in. See what he wants. Not give it to him. Lock him up.”

“All right. If you need them, just say the word and I’ll send some men up.”

“Copy.”

Joker was in the middle of the dancing crowd, weaving around, not sticking to one place and never going near the windows. He knew exactly what he was doing.

_No real discreet way of doing this._

Bruce grappled over to the deck, landing as close to the door as possible. A group of women nearby yelped, a glass of champagne shattering on the tile. Bruce soldiered forth. Inside, people made way for him. The beat of the music pounded, but Joker’s laugh cut through where voices didn’t. The guests he was chatting up noticed Batman approaching and shirked away. Joker turned to him with a flourish, feigning surprise.

“ _Hello, beautiful~_  It’s funny, but I feel like we’ve met before.”

“Save the small talk.” Bruce eyed the mass of guests around them who turned to watch. “What’s your game?”

“Poker!” A deck of cards slid out of his sleeve, “Want me to deal you in?”

“ _Joker._ What’s the point of this? _”_

“Maybe I thought you needed a nice break from truth, justice, and the American way. Give you a little taste of the Gotham after dark you don’t get to see.”

“...”

“Can’t you just enjoy the party? I’m a _hell_ of a host.”

“You’re going back to Arkham.”

Joker sighed dramatically.

“I do all of _this_ for _you_ , Bats, but you’re always just _work work work._ ”

Bruce grabbed Joker’s collar and hoisted him off his feet. Joker giggled and grabbed Bruce’s wrist to steady himself.

“You’re wasting my time.”

The people watching backed up, making space around them.

“Fine. You want to dance? Let’s dance!”

In the same move, Bruce leaned back to avoid the knife coming at his face and kicked Joker square in the chest, releasing him. The song playing through the speakers changed abruptly, revving into a faster beat. Joker stumbled to his feet and charged at him. A wild delight in his eyes. Bruce dodged and blocked the advances, blade catching uselessly on his arm guards.

“You know, Bats?” Joker ducked away from a fist. “You’re the only one who really _gets me.”_ Bruce finally disarmed him, knife stuck into the carpet. “We _understand_ each other. That’s what makes this so _fun.”_

_You don’t know me._

The crowd shifted around them, always allowing them space to fight, but never enough to make Bruce feel less claustrophobic. Joker continued his spiel while they traded blows.

“We’re Gotham’s yin and yang. A complete circle. Neither one complete without the other.”

“The only complete you are is a complete headache.”

Joker’s laugh bounced off the walls. He was loving this.

_Was this the whole point? You just wanted to fight? No scheme, no heist, no demands?_

Joker’s foot bumped into the knife and he staggered, finally giving Batman an opportunity to land a solid hit on his cheek. Joker recovered with a white smear of exposed skin. He backed up, giggling.

“Enough of this.” Bruce stalked after him. “You’re going to Arkham.”

“You’ll have to catch me first.” Joker stepped back and the crowd enveloped him.

All at once the partygoers pulled out tasers and started firing at Batman. Bruce just shirked them off. Even if they did hit their mark, the kevlar made sure it was ineffective. Shouts rang out with people being more successful in tasering each other than the bat barreling through them. Joker weaved through the crowd towards the deck, cackling at the chaos unfolding behind him.

It had started raining at some point. All sound of the storm muffled by the din of the beat. Lightning cracked when Joker slammed open the door. A helicopter hovered a couple feet away from the railing. The side slid open to welcome their boss in.

Bruce broke through the crowd, but he was still too far away. Joker would reach the helicopter before he could ever catch up to him, especially with those on the deck starting to fling themselves at him.

 _“Auf Wiedersehen,_ Batbrain!” Joker turned back and waved before jumping onto the railing.

He didn’t account for the water on the metal bar. His shoes slid on the dismount and he tumbled right over the side of the building.

_Smooth move, Joker._

The helicopter bobbed, its pilot obviously torn on how to proceed. For Bruce there was no question on what he was about to do. He dived over the railing and pinpointed Joker’s flailing body. Bruce plummeted faster, catching up to him and snagging onto his sequined suit.

“You caught me!” Joker wheezed through his laughing fit and made himself as hard to hold as possible: hands grabbing at the ears on the cowl, feet kicking against his chest.

The traffic beneath them was getting closer. The rain whipped into his face.

Bruce growled and crushed Joker against him with one arm, making the man almost squeak. With his other he drew his grappling hook and fired. The line drew taught, dangling them only a few stories off the ground. Joker’s laughter rumbled against him.

Bruce leaned his head against his extended arm to activate the radio link.

“Gordon, south entrance.”

“You’re funny, Batsy.” Joker’s face was way too close to him for comfort. The rain had started to melt down the tan makeup. “You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” Bruce switched the grappler to start lowering them to the ground.

“Preventing what could be my convenient accidental demise.”

_You’re never convenient._

“Your point?”

“No one would blame you if you let it happen, Batsy. In fact, you’re probably the only one in town who _would_ save little ol' me.”

Bruce just frowned at him. At least the approaching sirens signaled this conversation would be over soon.

Joker breathed out and rested his head on Batman’s chest the rest of the way down. Bruce grimaced. As soon as his feet touched the ground he forced Joker around and slapped cuffs on his wrists. Joker was compliant at last, humming under his breath while the cruisers stopped in front of them. Gordon got out, one hand ready to draw his gun.

“We can take him from here, Batman.”

Bruce went to usher him forward, but Joker dug his heels into the ground.

“No. I’m riding with you.”

“You don’t decide that.”

“Leave me with them and they’ll be dead in five minutes.” Joker craned his neck to look Batman in his eyes. “I don’t care if I’m cuffed. I’ve done worse with less.”

Bruce stared hard at him, but he just stared back. There wasn’t a fleck of humor in his eyes. Completely serious for once.

“I’ll take him in.” Bruce pressed the button on his belt to have the batmobile autopilot to his location.

“By the books, Batman.” Gordon looked like he was trying to hide his relief that Batman would handle it. “No more roughing him up unless he gives you no choice.”

“No worries, Commish. I’ll be a model prisoner.” Joker cheesed a smile.

As luck would have it, the batmobile hadn't been parked too far away. It eased to a stop behind the cruisers.

_This is going to be a long ride._

Bruce didn’t know the half of it. Once they were off, Joker wasted no time in getting down to business.

“Bats, my last stay in the nuthouse gave me a lot of time to do some thinking... About myself, Gotham, _you._ About how we all _fit together._ ”

_Ok?_

“And then I thought about _you_ and _that Super freak._ And that really got my _blood boiling,_ because Superham doesn’t _get_ you.”

“And _you_ do?”

“Of course! This game we play together is _proof_ of that! Don’t you see it? Or are bats really blind?”

“I treat you no differently than any other criminal.” Bruce deadpanned, already done with this conversation.

“Batsy. I don’t believe that for a second. But back to the meat of the issue: _Superbland!_ The man’s a ken-doll! Where’s the flair? The originality? The _panache?_ He’s so _normal_ I don’t see how it works at all! Why are you _settling_ for that?”

“What do you think is going on, exactly?”

“I saw the way he looked at you after you got yourself shot. He _touched your face_ like it was the climax of a _cheeseball romantic period drama._ He’s in love with you and for _some reason_ you’re falling for it. You’re the ‘world’s greatest detective’~ or whatever, but you can’t see what’s been under your nose this whole time...”

_This isn’t happening. I’m in hell. I didn’t grapple away in time. We crashed into the pavement and this is hell._

“ _Us, genius._ We’re two of a kind you and I. _We_ complete each other. We’re practically soul-”

“ _We._ Are NOT. Soulmates.”

“And? Neither are you and Superscout.”

_How much do you know?_

Joker barked a laugh.

“Your silence speaks volumes! I could always read you _so well.”_

Bruce’s grip tightened on the wheel.

“I just want you to be _happy_ , Bats. _He_ just wants to _domesticate_ you. Clip your fangs. _Dull. Boring. I_ keep you sharp, always on your _toes!”_ Joker kicked out suddenly at the steering wheel, hooking his foot and veering the car dangerously to the right.

They nearly careened into the cars in the other lane. Bruce had to keep the wheel steady with one hand and force Joker back into his seat with the other. Joker wouldn’t stop giggling, but did eventually sit back down.

“ _Stay down and shut up._ ”

Bruce stepped heavy on the gas. He was almost to Arkham, he would make it.

“Say, is this where Superbland sat when you were bleeding out?”

Bruce wanted to slap him, but he just scowled and focused on the road.

“Next time, _I won’t miss._ ”

Bruce grit down on his teeth.

_He just wants to fuck with you. Don’t react._

Joker laughed to himself.

“I bet you _hate_ me, Bats. Ya’know, hate and love aren’t opposites, babe. Love and hate are neighbors steeped in _passion. And you sure as hell are passionate about me.”_

Bruce breathed deep through his nose and just stared ahead. Joker always knew how to dig right under his skin. But that didn’t mean...

“I don’t _hate_ you.”

Joker was silent for a moment. He crossed his legs and leaned back into the seat.

“You will.” Joker said simply.

Bruce couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine.

_What is with you lately?_

Joker just looked out the passenger side window the rest of the ride, apparently having said what he wanted to say.

They finally pulled up at Arkham. Batman escorted him inside and decided to stay through until he saw Joker locked up himself.

Joker was quiet and cooperative through all of the processing, smiling through the one way glass. Somehow looking right at Bruce each time.

_‘You will.’_

The promise echoed in Bruce’s head. He drove straight home afterwards, mechanically got out of his suit, and auto piloted right to Clark.

He was in the living room, laptop balanced on the arm of the chair.

“Sounds like you have a great start there.” Clark looked up and smiled at Bruce.

“You don’t think it’s too dramatic?” Dick’s voice projected from the weak laptop speakers.

Bruce paced next to the window.

_‘You will.’’Next time, I won’t miss.’_

“No, you’ve got to hook your audience. You’ve done your research and it’s your job to make them care about it.” Clark kept looking up at Bruce’s anxious state.

“Cool.”

“Listen, Dick, your dad is back, I have to go. You’re doing great! Send me a copy when it gets published.”

“Thanks, Clark. You tell ‘ _my dad’_ I said ‘hi.’”

“Will do.” Clark closed the video call and shut the laptop.

Bruce hadn’t stopped pacing.

”Who was it tonight?”

“Joker.”

“What happened?”

“He… knows we’re together.”

“Oh...Are you worried?”

“He made some… threats.”

“Look at me.” Clark didn’t continue until Bruce finally stopped his pacing and looked up. “Nothing that clown can come up with is going to change this. Ok?”

Bruce’s mind was still clogged up.

“...Ok.”

“Now, come here.” Clark put the computer to the side and held out his arms. “You need a _distraction.”_

He did. And Clark was the best distraction he’d ever met.

Bruce padded over and straddled Clark’s lap. Clark wrapped his arms around him and pulled him down into a kiss. Bruce soon melted into it, his concerns pushed to the back of his mind. For now.

* * *

 

“I see you are still in one piece.” Alfred had just gotten home.

He had a slight tan and maybe looked marginally more relaxed. It was something, at least.

“Told you I could manage.”

“If I came home to find you bleeding out on the staircase that would have been too predictable.” He took off his sunglasses and pushed his suitcase over to Bruce. “What would really surprise me is if you managed to have a decent meal in the past week.”

“We’ll just have to prove ourselves by making dinner tonight, then!” Clark jogged into the entrance hall.

“Master Clark!” Alfred almost jumped. “Do you live here now?”

“Kind of.” Clark said sheepishly.

“Well, you won’t find me complaining about _that.”_ Alfred considered the two of them for a moment. “Well, Clark, let’s see how well you fed ‘my boy.’ Call me when it’s ready.” Alfred glided past them.

Bruce eyed Clark. ‘ _My boy.'_

Clark shrugged at him and tried to hide his smile.

 

Preparing meals in the mansion the past week had been fun for Clark. After getting schooled so much during training it was satisfying to one-up Bruce in the kitchen. Though Bruce had been watching him closely and was getting the hang of it. He was a quick learner, of course.

A week ago, Clark was worried about Bruce slicing a finger off when cutting vegetables. He had to teach him how to hold the food and the knife properly (fingers curled in, holding the back of the blade.) Bruce was cutting the peppers like a pro today.

“You know,” Clark broke the comfortable quiet. “Lois keeps asking about my ‘secret boyfriend.’”

“And what do you tell her?”

“He’s shy.”

Bruce laughed through his nose.

“Lois and I had a thing years back...”

“Clark, _everyone_ knows Superman and Lois Lane _‘had a thing.’”_

“Oh, so you don’t want to hear about it?”

“Is there anything to say that the papers didn’t talk about? Newsprint may be a dying media, but I’m still reading it.”

“You read the gossip columns about me?”

“I was intrigued why _Superman_ would be so obvious about who he was seeing. Never thought it was a good idea to let the world know that when there are people masterminding ways to kill you every week.”

“Hey, I was always there to save her!”

“From trouble that could have been avoided if she wasn’t known as ‘Superman’s sweetheart.’”

“Lois had her way of getting into trouble _without_ my help.”

“Mhm. Did you ever tell her who you were?”

“No. Thankfully. I was close, though.”

“Was there anyone else?”

“...No one _that_ serious…” Clark scratched the back of his neck where his hair was starting to get shaggy. “Short things. How about you, Bruce? You were seeing Catwoman weren’t you? Or was _that_ just gossip?”

“Selina and I were on and off for years. She didn’t care about soulmates so it was easy to be with her when we weren’t at each other’s throats.”

“What was the problem?”

“She never took things seriously and I could never trust her all the way.”

“Anyone else?”

“You know Two-Face?”

Clark almost dented the pan in his grip.

“You and _Two-Face?”_

“Harvey Dent. It was _before_ the accident. When we were in college.” Bruce slid the slices of pepper to the side of the cutting board with the knife. “We dated for about six months before I decided to end it. He kept asking to share marks. I wasn’t ready for anyone to know about... And I knew he’d leave if he knew.”

“You left him before he could leave you.”

“Mm.”

“What was he like ‘before the accident?’”

“Confident, clever, his heart was in the right place. It was his temper that got him... His _other half_ was always there under the surface. He was a different person when he was angry. I told him to get help for it. The job he was going for, he had to be cool under pressure... He listened for awhile. Went to a therapist. Got some medication... After we split I’m not sure how well he kept that up. But, after the accident he quit getting help entirely. He thought he was a monster with his face like that. Didn’t think he deserved the help. So he just got worse. And now we have Two-Face… because I couldn’t stop the acid from hitting him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too… sometimes when we fight I can see the Harvey I used to know in there. If Arkham would pull its act together, he might stand a chance.”

“You think he can change?”

“Only if he wants to. And the bad side of him is hard to convince.”

“Don’t they just need a coin flip?”

“The trick with that is he never shows you what it landed on.”

“Two face is two faced?”

Bruce smirked.

“Do you really think Arkham could help him?”

“If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t be able to go out there at night.”

“Well I think it’s uncharacteristically optimistic of you.”

“What makes you think I’m a pessimist?” Bruce scowled at him.

Clark laughed and kissed his frown away before focusing back on the food in the pan. While he nudged the chicken around with his wooden spoon he thought about Bruce. He thought about his morals and how much he respected that about him. He never dehumanized his villains. That would be so easy to do when they seemed eager to become caricatures of themselves.

“Like you said with Maxima,” Bruce had done some pondering of his own, it seemed. “‘you can’t save everyone, but you have to try.’”

“You really liked when I said that.”

Bruce smiled softly down at the cutting board and Clark couldn’t help himself. He picked him up by his thighs and slid him onto the counter while they kissed. Bruce laughed against him and slapped his ass.

“You’ll burn the chicken.”

Clark gave him a final kiss before going back to the stove, smile wrinkling his eyes. Bruce stayed on the counter for another minute, just watching and appreciating him before going back to his own task.

Clark hummed an old tune his father had on a record, the words coming to him subconsciously.

_You feel the same thing._

_You fixed a bad broken heart._

Bruce finished dicing the rest of the vegetables and slid them into the pan. Clark tossed them around together.

_Yes I know you’ve got me going._

_Pardon me my feelings are showing._

Bruce slotted behind Clark, hands resting on his hips. Clark leaned back against him and hummed louder when Bruce kissed his neck.

_I’m only saying what’s on my mind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started a Twitter for posting art and inspiration for this series! @mega_mindful  
> Might also post WIP or updates on when next chapters will be coming out. Also if you guys just want to hmu feel free.
> 
> Song Clark is thinking of is “What’s On My Mind” by Kansas.


	3. What More Can You Do?

Those first few years after his parent’s passing, Dr. Leslie Thompkins had been a steady shore in Bruce’s life. Almost as present as Alfred was. Though, her visits were often cut short by emergencies at the clinic. And as Bruce grew in age, Gotham seemed to grow more dangerous. Leslie needed to pay more and more attention to her clinic, leaving Bruce and Alfred to their own devices.

It wasn’t until years later that Bruce realized the true extent of Alfred and Leslie’s relationship. The two were adept at keeping their private life  _ private.  _ Bruce supposed their falling out was tied to Batman. Alfred didn’t always approve, but he always supported him. Leslie, on the other hand, was  _ adamantly  _ opposed. She was a strict pacifist. Bruce kept the secret from her as long as he could. A near fatal shot to the stomach had forced his hand. She found him near unconscious, tumbling into her window. His identity was revealed on her operating table. Their relationship was shaky at best ever since.

In the following years, she never turned him away when he needed help. But it was given begrudgingly and the baggage between them weighed heavy. These factors were two-fold when Bruce had to bring Dick to her one night. She couldn’t look him in the eye and Bruce couldn’t blame her.

Maybe it was Alfred’s words about her. Maybe it was Clark’s influence. Bruce found himself on Park Row after a quiet night on patrol, looking down at her lit office window. 

It would be a difficult conversation, but Alfred was right. She was family. And Bruce’s relationships were precious few. It would be wise to at least try and maintain them.

Bruce swooped down to the window and peered in. She was turned away from him, hunched over her cluttered desk. Another late night at the clinic. He knocked on the window. She visibly sighed and set her pen down slowly before turning to look at him. Bruce supposed that was all he would be getting in terms of an invite and let himself in.

“Dr. Thompkins.”

“Why are you here?”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“You’re always ‘in the neighborhood.’ What’s punctured this time?”

“Nothing. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Busy. Cleaning up your messes.”

“...”

“Are you aware of how many come in here with  _ bat  _ related injuries?”

There was the root of the disappointment. The avoidance. She never saw the reason for the force, just the result. She would never understand.

“...I only do what’s necessary.”

“Necessary to appease your obsessive compulsion.”

“Do you have the same diagnosis for Superman, then?”

“Same methods, different wrapping. You aren’t going to make a hypocrite out of me to prove a point, Bruce.”

“We do what we do to help protect-”

“ _ Your parents _ didn’t need  _ this  _ to protect people. To make Gotham,  _ the world, _ better. Alfred…  _ we  _ failed you, Bruce.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“We must have.  _ Look at you.  _ Maybe if I had been there more…”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Bruce, what would your parents have thought of this?”

Bruce’s throat tightened. That thought had paralyzed him in his early years, but there was no question to it now.

“You know I do this  _ for them.” _

Dr. Thompkins’ mouth was a thin line.

“I don’t have time for this, Bruce.” She turned away and looked back at her work. “But thank you for coming when you’re not moments away from dying for a change.”

Bruce wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words to make this better. He didn’t know if those words even existed. So instead he left silently and made his way back to the batmobile. It was parked in a nearby alley. Bruce sought comfort in the knowledge Clark was back at the mansion. But when Bruce found his ride it was apparent he’d have to put his plans on hold.

A tire was missing.

_ What? _

His parking spot was now a crime scene. Oddly enough, whoever took it left on foot. They couldn’t have gone far and the single tire tread twisting down the alleys made it easy to track them. The trail ended at a foreclosed apartment building a few blocks down. Bruce checked out the windows carefully, not sure what would be waiting for him inside.

The interior looked hastily abandoned. There was only one room with a modicum of light inside. A weak flashlight cast on an old twin mattress where a teenage boy with long unkempt hair was picking at a granola bar.

_ A kid? _

Sure enough, the wheel was close by, resting by the packaging of whatever food the boy had been no doubt swiping from convenience stores or the like. By the looks of it, he’d been squatting here for some time now. The night was certainly taking an unexpected turn.

Bruce came in through the window.

“You have something of mine.”

The kid jumped and scrambled to grab something under his pillow. Bruce snagged the gun before he could get a proper hold on it. 

“Easy! I’m not going to hurt you.” In a quick move he disarmed it, letting the magazine fall to the floor, and tossed the unloaded gun to the side.

“Back off! Like I believe that shit.” The kid swiped a tire iron off the floor and took a swing.

Bruce caught it before it hit his face. The kid’s grip stayed strong. Eyes hard. Bruce could see now his face was bruised. Someone must have roughed him up recently.

“Let go.”

The kid pushed against him with a last ditch bit of strength, then relented.

“What are you going to do to me?” He crossed his arms.

“What’s your name?” Bruce spoke softer.

“...Jason.”

“Jason. First, you’re putting that wheel back.”

“...Then what?”

* * *

Jason needed something hot to eat and options were few this time of night if you wanted to keep a low profile. Bruce definitely made the graveyard shift worker’s night when he pulled up for his order in the batmobile. He suspected Jason got some kind of kick out of it too, though he was still too closed off to show it.

They ate their meals on the hood of the batmobile. Their view overlooking the city. Jason had kept quiet. Eyes still hard whenever he glanced at Batman.

“How long have you been on your own?”

“...About a year.”

“What happened?”

_"Y_ _ou_ did.”

Jason took another big bite out of his burger, pointedly not looking at him.

“Care to elaborate?”

“You got my dad locked up.”

“Then he must have broken the law.”

“Must have.”

“What about your mother?”

“...She was sick... died last year.”

“I’m sorry. No other relatives?”

“Nope.”

“No one came to help you?”

“They tried… but, I’m not a kid. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but there’s a difference between surviving and living.”

Jason finished his burger, sucking the last of the sauce off his fingers. Bruce pushed his fries towards him.

“I’m going to bring you someplace safe. They have food, warm showers, and a clean bed. How does that sound?”

“...Don’t think you’re giving me a choice.”

“No.”

“Then it  _ sounds _ like my opinion doesn’t matter.” Jason ate the fries five at a time.

“It matters. But I could always turn you in to the authorities. I can’t be the first one you’ve stolen from and I imagine you’re too young to have a permit for that gun.”

Jason stopped eating. Instead he stomped the straw in his milkshake up and down, making the plastic squeal.

“It’s not too late to turn your life around. I want to give you that chance… If you don’t like this place I take you, if it’s not working out, we can try someplace else. But you’re not going back to where I found you.”

Jason drew his knees up under his chin, his brows twitching.

“...Why do  _ you _ care what happens to me?”

“You remind me of myself when I was your age.”

Jason finally looked at him. Eyes wide for a moment before he pushed his reaction down.

“Fine. I’ll go.  _ But only _ if you promise I can leave if I don’t like it.”

“Give it a month.” Bruce held out his hand to shake on it.

Jason swore under his breath.

“Deal.”

 

* * *

 

When Bruce finally got home that night he told Clark about Jason. How he dropped the fifteen year old off at a boarding school nearby that specialized in troubled youths. A facility that was backed by Wayne Enterprise funding, of course. Jason would live there while awaiting placement into foster care.

“So what’s wrong?” Clark knew this wasn’t over for Bruce.

“I’m not sure if that was enough.”

“What more can you do?”

That question would nag at Bruce for weeks, accompanied by the memory of Jason’s hard stare and his unshaking grip on the tire iron.

* * *

 

The space station was finally finished. J’onn was already out there, giving Bruce feedback on the state of things. The teleporter stood finished in a secluded corner of the Batcave. Bruce calibrated it in full Batman gear with Clark supervising. 

“Have you tested this one yet?”

In lieu of an answer, Bruce switched the machine on. The blue beam opened up like a doorway, making Clark’s cape billow behind him.

Bruce checked his wrist display and walked over to Clark.

“Stand here.” Bruce moved him by his shoulders into the right place. “And catch it.”

“Catch what?”  _ What _ became obvious when a baseball flew out of the light straight at Clark. He snatched it and ignored Bruce’s laughter at his surprised face.

He turned the baseball over in his hand. It had “ahoy” written on it twice. The first written in what he recognized as Bruce’s handwriting. The other must have been J’onn’s.

“Looks like it works.” Bruce walked through the light confidently.

Clark watched him blink out of existence and after a moment followed right after him.

The teleporter made his stomach flip a bit and he almost stumbled to catch his footing on the other side. It would take a little getting used to, but it wasn’t bad. The room with the teleporters opened out to a hallway. Clark found Bruce again talking to J’onn in the tall ceilinged meeting space. One wall had a towering computer screen, the other a thick window with a breathtaking view of Earth.

The station was a spectacular feat of engineering. It was one thing to see it in blueprints and 3D models, and an entirely different one to see it in person.

“Bruce, J’onn… this is amazing.” Clark clapped his hand on J’onn’s upper arm. “The rest of the team is going to love it!”

“I would hope so.” J’onn smiled and glanced at the two of them. “I am glad to see you have been working hard on your  _ other commitments  _ as well, Bruce.”

Bruce glanced at Clark. J’onn must have been able to tell their minds were much calmer together than before.

“I will leave you two to it.”

“Back through the teleporter?” Clarked imagined he had his own calibrated to the station.

“I think I will take the scenic route.” With that, he walked towards the window. He phased through it and started flying back to Earth. 

Clark chuckled. Sometimes he wondered if J’onn was aware how funny his blunt use of his powers was. They watched until he disappeared from sight somewhere over New England. Clark’s gaze wandered over to the midwest.

“Oh, Bruce! I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

“Yes?”

“It’s my mother’s birthday tomorrow and I’m going to surprise her with a visit.”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering if you would like to come with me.”

“To meet your parents.”

“Yes, my dad will be there too.”

“Mm.”

“Is that a yes?”

“...I did say I should meet them.”

“They’ll love you, don’t worry!” Clark slid behind Bruce and rested his chin on his shoulder, hands sneaking around his cape.

“I’m not worried.”

“Sure you aren’t.” Clark seemed to grow a foot, his head resting on top of Bruce’s now.

_ What. _

Bruce glanced behind him and saw Clark’s feet hovering off the floor.

“That’s cheating.”

Clark wrapped his arms around him and sighed, settling against him. Bruce leaned back, closing his eyes.

He  _ was _ a little worried. Only because Clark’s parents were so important to him. He needed to make a good first impression. He had never met Harvey’s parents and certainly never Selina’s. It would be a new thing altogether. And twenty-four hours wasn’t that long to prepare.

“...I suppose it sounds like a good idea.”

“Great! They’ll be so excited to finally meet you.”

“Please tell me you actually bought her something.”

“Shh, of course I did. You worry too much, Bruce.”

“Someone has to.”

But it was hard to worry with Clark’s arms around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the games begin!


	4. Stability and Focus

The night was quiet. Wind combing over the fields.

Clark knocked on the door and flashed a smile back at Bruce.

“They’re going to love you! Don’t worry.”

“You keep saying that. I’m not worried.” Bruce shoved his hands in his pockets. Because of the chill in the air and no other reason.

The door cracked open.

“Happy birthday, Ma!” Clark spread out his arms, gift bag swinging.

“Oh, Clark, honey!” She closed the door behind her slightly. “The house is a mess.”

“Ma, you always say that.” Clark scooped her into a big hug. She laughed and kissed his cheek.

“My handsome man!” She caught sight of Bruce and her eyes shone. “Is this who I think it is?”

“Ma, this is Bruce.” Clark put his hand on Bruce’s back.

“Bruce, honey! It’s so good to meet you!” Martha hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Bruce patted her shoulder.

Martha stepped back and squinted.

“Wait, Bruce  _ Wayne?” _

“Guilty.”

“I thought you looked familiar!” She gave Clark a wide eyed look and giggled. “Come in, come in! John! Clark’s here with his partner!”

_ ‘Partner.’ _

The word felt right. Affirming.

“Clark!” John got himself out of the recliner with a grunt. “Introduce me.”

“Pa, this is Bruce.”

“Great to meet you, Bruce.” John shook his hand in a strong grip. “You taking good care of my boy?”

_ ‘My boy.’ That’s where he got it. _

_ “Pa!” _

“He’s a handful, but I make do.”

John laughed and clapped Bruce’s arm.

“Ma, we brought you a little something.” Clark held out the gift bag.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, honey.”

Martha took the bag and sifted through the tissue paper. She drew out a set of stainless steel knives.

“These are perfect! John, take notes.”

“Where do you think he got the idea?”

Martha shook her head.

“Oh! You boys must be starving!”

“We don’t need dinner, Ma, it’s ok.”

“Oh hush, you’re eating. You didn’t come all this way to not get fed. I wanna try out these ladies anyway.” Martha lifted the knives and made her way to the kitchen.

“You’ve been keeping busy, huh, Clark?” John took a beer out of the six-pack by the couch and handed it to him.

“Just a little busier than normal.”

“Want a beer, son?” John looked at Bruce expectantly.

“Me?” Bruce wanted to be polite, but that was one offer he couldn’t accept. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

“Coffee then?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“Coming right up!” John smiled and left to the kitchen.

“You don’t drink.” Clark held off on drinking his own beer.

_ What’s the point of  _ you _ drinking with your metabolism, Clark? _

“Correct.” Bruce let the thought hang. Clark said it as a statement, but there was a question there. One he was being too polite to ask. “I used to drink too much.”

“When?”

“High school... I was reckless back then. It took my mind off things.”

Clark held Bruce’s hand and squeezed softly.

“Lucky for you, Clark, we’ve got plenty to go around.” Martha peeked out from the kitchen. “Steak sound good to you, Bruce?”

“Sounds fantastic.”

Despite the surprise nature of their visit, Martha made a dinner that looked like it could have taken a week to prepare.

“Now, how did you two meet?” Martha passed the bread to Clark.

“Which time?” Bruce smirked to himself.

“Yeah it’s a uh funny story… We kind of met twice.”

“The first time was almost nine years ago. Clark interviewed me for the Planet.”

“I remember that article!” Martha exclaimed, “You were just starting out, Clark.”

“It was my first big assignment.” Clark smiles at Bruce.

“We didn’t meet again until last year when that starfish alien invaded Gotham.”

“We saw that on the news! Did Clark save you?”

_ In a way. _

Bruce glanced to Clark. He might as well just come out with it.

“I’m Batman.”

“You know, I had my suspicions,” John pointed with his knife, “but I didn’t want to say anything.”

“I always thought Batman had a handsome jaw.”

_ “Ma!” _

Bruce laughed.

“Now _ this _ makes a lot more sense to me.” Martha looked between them, “Not that you couldn’t snag a millionaire, Clark. I believe in you, honey.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

“So, you’ve got a lot in common then, being in that Justice League together.”

“Though, I have to ask, Bruce…” John rubbed the handle of his fork. “What about your soulmate?”

_ “John.” _

“It’s ok, Martha, I understand the concern.” Bruce spoke up. “Clark and I have something else in common.” Bruce unclipped his bracelet. 

“We kind of match.” Clark took his own watch off and put his wrist against Bruce’s.

It was unnecessary to prove the point, but seeing their bare wrists together always sparked something deep in Bruce. A calming solidarity.

“Huh. Ain’t that something.” John fixed his glasses. “Do you know what happened to yours, Bruce?”

“I never had one.”

“Are you not from Earth?”

“No. I’m human. I know it’s strange.” Bruce’s wrist was beginning to feel naked. “I’ve just never had one.”

“Ma?”

Of course Clark had noticed Martha’s watering eyes and her hand over her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I just,” She sniffed. “I’m so happy you found each other.”

“Me too.” Clark threaded their fingers together.

Bruce felt exposed, but for once he didn’t pull away. Clark’s hand was sturdy and he needed an anchor.

The dinner went on, conversation drifting from the League’s space station to Bruce’s day job. Seeing Clark interact with his parents was illuminating. These were the people who raised him. Found him lost as a baby and took him in as their own. Worried over him. Made him into the man who saved countless others every day.

Bruce couldn’t help but long for ghosts. It was a pull that was familiar and bitter. Not a longing for the past, but for the present they never got to have. Moments that were stolen from him all those years ago. 

The nature of grief, as Bruce had come to know it, was that it never faded away completely. His parents had been dead twice as long as Bruce had known them, but every once in a while there was something else to mourn. Always some mines left in the field and he wouldn’t know they were there until he stepped on them.

In this case, what bothered Bruce was that his mother and father would never get to meet Clark. The man who was fitting into the role as his other half so adeptly. His  _ partner. _

His parents were spared the worry Martha felt over her son’s love life, but also had this moment of relief taken from them.

Clark’s foot nudged against his. Bruce was thinking too much.

After dinner they migrated over to the living room, deciding to stick around for longer and spend the night in Clark’s old room. Martha was asking Clark about Lois Lane and Bruce busied himself looking over the photographs on display.

Clark, about seven, in a baseball uniform. Around twelve, standing next to a drawing of a shoe at an art show. A senior portrait, his hair slicked back. A baby photo, cradled in Martha’s arms. Clark’s smile was always the same, big and genuine. Bruce focused on a photo of Clark next to a pickup truck in a full cowboy ensemble. He must have been around sixteen.

“Were you in the rodeo, Clark?”

Clark saw what he was pointing to and his ears turned pink.

“Uh.”

“Oh!” Martha clapped her hands together. “That’s from when Clark was in Oklahoma!” 

_ Oklahoma? _

“Is that the dress code?”

“Not the state, sweetheart, the musical!”

_ Musical? _

“Clark was the lead! Remember, honey?”

“I remember.”

“What was your character’s name? Carl? Lenny?”

“Curly.”

“That’s it!” Martha was already skimming through the VHS tapes under the tv cabinet, “I have a tape somewhere, hold on.”

“ _ Ma!  _ Bruce doesn’t want to see  _ that.” _

“On the contrary, I would love to see it, Martha.”

“Here it is!” Martha extracted the tape and popped it into the VHS player. “John! Come help me with the clicker.”

Once the input was set correctly everyone sat down to watch. Bruce and Clark together on the matchseat. The scene opened up with rows of corn on stage. A young Clark meandered through them.

* * *

 

_ This is humiliating. _

Clark was in some kind of hell. Having to watch this ‘performance’ with Bruce sitting not an inch away from him. He may have gotten the lead, but that didn’t mean he deserved it. He had only been in the musical because his high school drama teacher was always desperate for boys to get involved in theater. Clark had finally taken pity on him that year.

_ “Oh, what a beautiful mornin'~ Oh, what a beautiful day~ I've got a  _ wonderful _ feeling~ Everything's going my way~” _

_ I messed up the line. It was opening night and I messed it up. _

Clark chanced a glance to his right. Bruce was watching the screen intently.

_ I’m never going to live this down. He’s never going to let me forget about it. _

_ “All the sounds of the earth are like music~ The breeze is so busy, it don't miss a tree~ And an old weeping willow is laughing at me~” _

Bruce shifted, leaning towards him.

_ Here it comes. _

Clark braced himself.

“I didn’t know you could sing.”

Clark blinked and turned to look at him. Bruce’s eyes were soft. He wasn’t joking. Clark felt his face heat up. He wanted to kiss him. Instead he swallowed and turned back to look at the screen as the scene went on.

The tape cut out after a round of applause. Martha and John’s voices the clearest in the crowd, the camera shaking.

The night wound down after that, Martha and John tiring out early. Clark brought Bruce to his old room. He thanked his younger self for upgrading to a queen size bed in college.

Bruce pushed him down onto it. They kissed slow, stilling every time the bed creaked. Bruce snuck his hands under Clark’s shirt, dragging across his muscle. Soon the shirt came off, Bruce’s falling to the floor next to it. Clark bucked up, kisses getting sloppy. Bruce pushed down against him, insistent.

Eventually, Clark broke away.

“I don’t have any lube.” Clark licked his lips.

“Luckily, I don’t need any for  _ this.”  _ Bruce pulled Clark’s pants down.

_ Oh ok. _

Bruce mouthed hot at Clark’s cock through his briefs.

_ OK. _

_ “Bruce.” _

_ “Shh.” _ Bruce pulled out his dick and licked from the base to the tip, before taking him whole.

Clark bit down on his fist, doing his best to stay quiet.

Bruce bobbed down a few times, but then stopped, lips against the base of him.

“Huh?” Clark looked down at him and Bruce was staring straight back.

Bruce found Clark’s hand and threaded it through his hair, urging him to pull it. When Clark complied, the rest of Bruce’s head followed, sucking up his dick.

_ Oh. Shit. _

Clark finally caught on and pushed him back down. Bruce gave no resistance, keeping his throat relaxed.

_ Bruce. _

Clark had to clamp his hand down over his mouth and breathe through his nose. He started Bruce slow, but then he grew needier and sped up the pace to match. Bruce clawed his blunt nails down Clark’s sides and swallowed around the head of him.

Clark came on a hard breath that took all the air out of his lungs. Clark let go of his hair and Bruce popped off of him with a smug smile.

Clark didn’t give him time to gloat, pulling Bruce up so his crotch was above him and shucking his pants off.

Not that it was a contest, but Clark knew how he could top that. He didn’t actually have to breathe.

Clark wet his lips and urged Bruce forward with a hand on his lower back. Bruce didn’t need any more instruction than that. He held Clark’s head steady and drove in.

The only thing Bruce held back was the sound of his breathing. He curled Clark’s hair like a vice and hit the back of his throat with each thrust. Clark ran his hands across the long scars on Bruce’s thighs, trailing farther to cup and squeeze his ass. Bruce’s breath hitched and Clark looked up to see him biting his lip. Bruce came with a shaky exhale, hips stuttering. He drew out of him, shifted down on the bed, and collapsed next to him. His chest heaved.

Clark put his arm across his back and slotted their legs together. Bruce hummed deep in his throat, smoothing Clark’s hair down.

Doing this, here, in the same bed Clark would lay in wishing he could have a soulmate lying next to him. It was gratifying. This is what he had always dreamt about. It had just been a dream for so long.

Clark woke up a few hours later. Bruce was sitting hunched over his phone, his face lit up by the faint light. It wasn’t uncommon to find Bruce like this. Clark scooted behind him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, resting their heads together.

Bruce was scrolling through some kind of case file. Clark caught some key details: “incidents in the classroom”, “truant”, “Jason Todd.” It was some kind of report on the kid Bruce found a couple weeks ago. He was keeping tabs on him.

“What are you thinking?”

“There  _ is  _ more I can do for him.”

_ You’re thinking of adopting him? _

“...Empty nesting?”

“He’s directionless and angry… but he has potential. He tried to fight me when I found him.”

Clark looked back at the file.

“He’s fifteen.”

“I’m not saying he’s going to be a new Robin.” Bruce scrolled back up to look at Jason’s picture. It looked like a mugshot. “No one will want to adopt him with a reputation like this and at his age… There’s less chance of him getting a permanent home. I can give him some stability and focus. It’s partly my fault he was on the street anyway.”

“It’s not your fault his father made bad decisions.”

“No. But all those charitable donations didn’t help him... What do you think?”

“It’s a big commitment.”

“I’m aware.”

“Can you even adopt him with his father still in the picture?”

“He’s barely in the frame. Willis Todd still has three more years before he’s eligible for probation. But you’re right. For now, it would be fostering. Willis would have to be found unfit to take care of Jason by the courts before an official adoption could take place.”

“What do you think would happen if you left it alone?”

“I think if I do nothing... in a few years he’ll be joining his dad in prison. If he makes it that long. Batman wasn’t the first person out of his weight class he’s tried to fight.”

“It’s up to you, Bruce. Whatever you want to do, I support you.”

_ You’ve already made up your mind. _

Bruce sighed and let the phone screen turn black, leaning back against Clark.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Two weeks later and all of the proper preparations had been made. Bruce made sure they would beat the month deadline he gave Jason to begin with. He and Alfred were able to speed up the proceedings by leaning on Bruce’s celebrity and past success with raising Dick.

The day finally came. Clark was busy in Metropolis when Alfred chauffeured Jason to the mansion. Bruce dressed casually, knowing anything fancy would put Jason off right away. As it was, he was hesitant at every step, hands locked tight on the backpack the boarding school had issued him.

“Jason! I’m Bruce. It’s good to meet you.” Bruce held out his hand and Jason stared at it coldly.

“I know who you are.”

“How about I give you the tour?” Bruce brushed off the snub, walking towards the house.

“Ok.”

Bruce brought him through hallways and up stairs until they got to the room Jason would be staying in. It was right next to Dick’s.

“This room is yours.”

Jason walked a few steps into it. His eyes were still hard, not giving anything away. Not letting his guard down for a second.

“If there’s anything else you would like in here we can get it for you.”

Jason just grunted.

“You can put down your bag if you’d like.”

Jason thought about it, then set it next to the bed. He stuffed his hands immediately in his pockets.

_ You’re just planning the quickest way out of here. _

“Do you need anything? Hungry?”

“Why me?”

“Why you?”

“Why adopt  _ me?” _

“I haven’t adopted you yet. Technically.”

“Oh so this is a trial run? Did you keep the receipt?”

There was one way Bruce knew of to get this awkwardness out of the way.

“Jason… There’s another part of the house you should see.”

“Oh?”

“I think you’ll like it.”

Bruce led him downstairs to a study.

“I’m not big on reading.”

“We’re not there yet.” Bruce opened the statue head and pressed the hidden button opening the section of wall to the elevator. He turned to take in Jason’s reaction.

Jason was stock still, eyebrows taut. He looked almost skittish.

_ What conclusions are you jumping to right now? _

“Jason?”

_ “What do you want from me?” _

Bruce’s blood went cold. Playing coy wasn’t earning him any trust. He needed to be more direct.

“Easy. Jason, if you don’t like it here, with me, you can leave.”

“...Promise?”

“Give it a month.” Bruce extended his hand.

Jason’s whole demeanor shifted, recognition dawning in his eyes. Bruce smiled and quirked an eyebrow, bobbing his held out hand.

_ “Deal.”  _ Jason shook it in a firm grip.

“Great. Come with me.”

Jason hopped into the elevator next to him, trying to keep a straight face. Bruce could tell he was buzzing in anticipation.

The elevator descended, letting them out in the cave. Jason’s eyes were wide, taking in the car, helicopter, jet, computers, suits, everything. He laughed.

“You came back for me.”

“You didn’t want to stay there, did you?”

_ “No!”  _ Jason walked over to the line of lit cases, stopping in front of Dick’s old suit. “Does this mean I’m the new Robin? Is that how it works?”

“Not exactly.” Bruce walked over to him. “Did you  _ want  _ to be?”

“I don’t know…” He looked at his reflection in the glass. He was less emaciated than a month ago. Most of his bruises had healed up. “I don’t want to go to that school any more.”

“You can switch to public school next week. Tomorrow we start training.”

“Training?”

“Think of it as an extracurricular.”

“Ok… There’s one other thing I want.”

“What?”

“A haircut.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’” From Oklahoma!  
> Whenever I put a song in a fic it reminds me of the Glee fanfics I wrote in middle school and that’s my cross to bare.   
> Follow me on Twitter so I feel more motivated to use it: @mega_mindful


	5. Loose Ends

After Jason settled down, Bruce fell back to his own room. Now felt like a good time to update Clark on the situation.

                       -He’s here.-

\-  :O -

-I’ll be right there!-

Within a minute, Clark was on his balcony, knocking excitedly on the glass. Bruce huffed a laugh and let him in. Clark practically tumbled into the bedroom.

“Should I introduce myself as Clark or Superman? Did you tell him?”

“What? That I’m dating Superman?”

“That you’re Batman!” Clark covered his mouth. “You said we’re dating, that’s cute.”

“We _are_ dating. And I did tell him I’m Batman.”

“Ok. Alright. So you’re his dad now-“

“Not re-“

“What does that make me? What should he call me? How am I supposed to introduce myself?”

“Clark. Calm down.”

“I’ve never done something like this before!”

“ _This_ is what you’re intimidated by? Just introduce yourself as Clark, keep the glasses on, you’re fine.”

“Ok, good plan, ‘I’m dating your new dad’ is enough to start with, he doesn’t need to know I’m Superman right now… If he doesn’t think I’m cool I’m telling him though.”

“You’re worried about looking cool?”

“He’s a teenager. I want to make a good impression. Teenagers are worried about looking cool, right?”

“Clark I need you to take a deep breath. You’ll be fine.”

“Right, of course.” Clark held a breath and started to walk towards the hallway.

“You should come in through the front door.”

“Right! That makes more sense.”

Clark zipped away. A moment later the doorbell rang through the mansion.

Bruce smirked to himself and made his way to Jason’s room, knocking firmly on the closed door.

“Jason. Come downstairs. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

The door cracked open and Jason slid into the hallway.

“Is it anybody cool?”

_You’re kidding me._

“... _I_ think so.”

“Hm.”

They walked in silence to the foyer where Clark and Alfred were talking. Clark was fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. He looked up at them expectantly, smile wide.

“Jason, this is my partner, Clark.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason!” Clark held out his hand.

Jason glanced to Bruce before shaking it.

“What do you do?” Jason eyed him critically.

“I’m a reporter.”

“Oh. Ok.”

Clark shot Bruce a look. Bruce shook his head a fraction.

_There’s no reason to rush this._

“Dinner will be ready shortly, Master Bruce.” Alfred left down the hallway.

“So, how’s school going, Jason?”

“Fine.”

“He’ll be switching to public school this Monday.” Bruce said.

“It’s gonna suck.” Jason punctuated.

Clark blinked.

“Really? I think a fresh start can be great!”

Jason crossed his arms and looked to Bruce.

“Maybe.”

“Do you play any video games?”

_Clark?_

“No.”

“We can get you some.” Bruce chimed in.

“You _can,_ huh, money bags?” Jason smirked.

“Any sports or clubs you want to join?”

“I think I’m booked on extra-curriculars.”

Clark squinted at Bruce.

“If you want to get into theater, Clark can help you.” Bruce deflected.

“No, I think I’m good.”

Jason grew more relaxed the more they talked. Clark had that way about him. Non threatening despite all that power coursing just beyond the surface. Bruce could get distracted thinking about it.

The dinner Alfred set before them was impressive as always. Jason wasn’t as ravenous this time, the boarding school had been feeding him well and he certainly wouldn’t have to want for food any more.

Jason and Clark were getting along just fine. Bruce was almost jealous. Clark didn’t have to pull the superhero card to earn his trust. However, the following proceeded anyway.

An odd breeze knocked out the steady flame of a candle in the center of the table. All eyes turned to it.

“Oh, I’ve got it!” Clark tilted his glasses down and set a quick heat ray blast on the wick.

The candle was lit again and Jason’s fork clattered to the fine China.

“ _You’re fucking Superman?”_

“ _Language, Master Jason._ ”

“Oh, Bruce didn’t tell you?” Clark played innocent.

_You couldn’t help yourself, Clark?_

“This makes so much more sense now!” Jason was almost out of his seat. “Superman, do something cool!”

“Right now?” Clark laughed.

“Yeah, like a back flip!”

“There will be no _flipping_ at the table.” Alfred strained to keep the night civil.

Jason set a suspicious gaze on him.

“Anybody else with superpowers in this room I should know about?”

Alfred turned up his nose.

“Not unless you consider _handling_ _you lot_ a superpower.”

* * *

A few days later it was Bruce’s least favorite holiday. Match Day. Bruce always dreaded it. It felt so ironic for a holiday that often ended in heartbreak to be dressed in such a sappy aesthetic. One couldn’t escape the hearts and sweet messages in the decorations.

The old tradition of revealing wrists was still celebrated by many. A dramatic series of romantic gestures would culminate in the sweethearts sharing their marks with the other.

It was custom, for those looking to share, to wear a red ribbon over their mark instead of the usual bracelet. It made the whole ordeal more dramatic to rip the bow away with a flourish. Chances were, of course, that the couple wouldn’t match. Consequently, as the night wound down, bars would fill up with the newly single.

It was also a day many villains chose to celebrate. One year, Mad Hatter kidnapped as many Alices as he could for his tea party. Another, Joker sent out chocolate boxes tainted with toxin. Bruce hoped tonight would be an exception. It was the first time he had someone to share the holiday with.

He hadn’t made any official plans with Clark, but his thoughts kept wandering back to him through the board meetings he sat through. He ought to do _something_ special for him. They were partners, after all. Clark may have been expecting something.

The work day came to an end and Bruce got on the elevator. Most employees had left the second the clock struck five so Bruce had the elevator to himself for a few floors. Then, on the twenty-second floor, two men got on, flanking him on either side, not making eye contact. Bruce kept his eyes on their clenched hands.

These situations were tricky. How much force would be plausible for a billionaire playboy to exert? How competently could he defend himself before people started to suspect? When should he play dumb or play his hand?

The man on the right spun around and Bruce dodged his hand by a hair. The elevator was too small and Bruce bumped into the other man. A tight pinch at his side. A moment later he was stumbling, his body suddenly too heavy for him to hold.

_Drugged me. Have to-_

Bruce caught himself on the railing and saw double in the reflective metal.

“What the hell? He’s still standing!”

“Give him another one!”

“Two?”

“You heard me!”

Bruce tried to block the arm coming towards him. Instead the syringe plunged into his palm. He let out a garbled noise and his legs gave out. He could hear his pulse pounding in his head. Then nothing.

* * *

Bruce woke up slowly, his senses coming back to him in a daze. He had trained himself to withstand certain amounts of sedatives. A double dosage, however, wasn’t doing him any favors. First he heard the soft piano. Then he smelled warm bread and red wine. Opening his eyes took the most effort. When he did, he was greeted by half a scowling face.

“Harv-ey?” Bruce rubbed his temples and was surprised at the lack of restraints.

“Bruce. It’s been awhile.”

They were in the private room of a high end restaurant Bruce was familiar with. The lighting was warm and low. The place was empty apart from them.

_What the hell._

Bruce looked over the puncture wound on his palm. Someone had wrapped it. The skin pinched when he moved his fingers.

“You could have just called.”

“Would you have come?”

“I would have.”

Two-Face tapped a finger on the table cloth. He looked almost nervous. Or, rather, Harvey looked nervous. Whatever this was, it wasn’t easy for him. Bruce’s eyes were still heavy.

“What happened all those years ago?” Harvey asked.

“What do you mean?”

“ _To us!_ What happened to us?”

“...we broke up?”

“Why?” Harvey’s brown eye was soft, looking down at his hands.

“Why are you asking _now?”_

“I’ve been tying up loose ends.” Harvey poured some Cabernet into each of their glasses. “It’s not poisoned. I wouldn’t take you out like _that.”_

_How would you do it? Something more personal?_

Harvey took a sip and eyed him, Bruce didn’t touch the glass.

_“DRINK!”_ Two-face rattled the table with his fists.

Bruce sighed and took a hesitant sip. A bitter red. It would be easy to hide poison with that flavor. Still, he suspected Harvey was telling the truth.

_You’d be more likely to strangle me._

“Sorry, Bruce. I don’t mean to be so pushy. _But I’ll push if I have to!”_ Harvey’s self-conflict was hard to watch.

“Harvey, it’s ok. You’ve been through a lot.”

Harvey paused at that.

“I just want some answers, Bruce.”

“I’ll try my best then.”

_How am I getting out of this one?_

There was no way to tell how much time had passed since work. Clark was bound to get worried at some point. Bruce was hoping he’d find a way to weasel out of this before that.

“ _You used to get around so much, had no problem moving on at all. But! For almost a year now there’s been nothing. No scandals. No gossip._ So is it true, Bruce? Have you finally found someone?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“ _That’s not important! Answer me!”_

“...I haven’t.”

“Then, I don’t suppose you’d mind _sharing.”_

“Harvey. What happened between us is _over._ ”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Simple. I _said_ it was over.”

“No. Either we match. _Or we don’t._ ”

“I _know_ we don’t match.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“I’ve known. That’s why I broke up with you.”

_“How?”_

“I saw it.”

“ _When?”_

Bruce had this lie prepared since college.

“When you applied for grad school. I saw your file. They take your fingerprints and your soul mark.”

“...I don’t believe you.”

“I bribed them to show me. I wanted to know.”

“You could have just _asked.”_

“I was afraid-”

“ _Of what? Of what I would do to you?”_

“No of-”

“Commitment?”

Bruce let that be the answer. It was a better one than he could provide. Harvey scoffed at him and downed the rest of his drink.

“Prove it then.”

“What?”

“ _Show me we don’t match,_ Bruce.”

“Why do you care? Now? After all this time, Harvey?”

“I _told you._ I don’t like to leave loose ends. _Now SHOW ME!”_

“...No.”

“Dammit, Bruce, don’t make me force you.”

“I’m not _making_ you do anything, Harv.”

Two-Face was fuming. His scarred hand shook. He wanted to reach into his pocket. Harvey bowed his head and pleaded with him.

“Bruce-”

An armed grunt flew through the doors and smacked against the wall, unconscious. Batman stood in the doorway, fists up, teeth gritted in a snarl.

_Clark?_

_“YOU’RE INTERRUPTING!”_ Harvey drew his gun and fired off several rounds.

Clark ducked back into the hallway awkwardly.

“ _Two-Face, it’s over!”_

_That sounds… nothing like me._

Harvey cocked his head and lowered his gun.

“What’s wrong with your voice?”

A beat of silence.

“ _...I have a cold._ ”

“Excuse me?”

_“Enough talk. Hand him over.”_ Clark barreled back into the room, letting the bullets sink into the suit and ping off his impervious skin.

_“HOW-”_ Harvey was tackled to the ground.

Clark knocked him out and sprang back up.

“Are you ok, Bruce?”

“The only thing hurt is my dignity.”

“I didn’t do that bad!”

“I’ll have to patch up the armor. And you’re not done yet.” Bruce got up and crossed his arms. “You need to take _him_ to the commissioner.”

“Oh…” Clark scooped Harvey up.

“Not _that_ easily.”

“Um.” Clark pretended to struggle more with his weight.

“It’s easier when they can walk themselves out.”

“...Oops.”

“Forget it. Are the police waiting outside?”

“Yes.”

Bruce walked over to Clark and got the cuffs out of his belt.

“Set him against that pillar.”

Clark did as he was told and Bruce cuffed Harvey’s hands around the sturdy marble.

“Now, come here and let me do the talking.” Bruce yanked Clark’s head down by the ear on the cowl and activated the comm link.

“Commissioner. Two-Face and his crew have been neutralized.”

“Great. Any civilians?”

“Bruce Wayne-”

_“I’ll escort him outside.”_ Clark interrupted.

Bruce glared at him.

“Copy.” The link staticed out.

“What?”

“I was going to have you leave _discreetly,_  not _make a show of it.”_

_“Mr.Wayne, I’m not sure you’re thinking clearly. Let me assist you.”_

Clark went to scoop Bruce up and Bruce swatted his hands away.

“That is _not_ happening.”

“You’re no fun.”

“If you so much as _look_ at the commissioner when we get out there, I’m not speaking to you for a week.”

“It’s like you’re not even happy I rescued you.”

“Stand up straighter and _shut up.”_

As they approached the front doors Bruce had to remind himself not to look completely put out by “Batman’s” presence.

“Do you know how to use a grappling-hook?”

“Uh.”

“Pretend to shoot it and fly straight to the roof. It should be dark enough no one will notice the difference.”

They could already see the flashing lights of the police cruisers through the frosted glass.

“Alright. I’ll see you at home.”

_Home._

Clark held the door open for Bruce. Bruce adopted a humble stance, shoving his hands in his pockets, smiling bashfully. He caught Gordon’s eye and looked back to Clark.

“Thanks!” Bruce held out his hand and Clark huffed.

_“No thanks necessary.”_ He shot the grappler into the air and flew up after it.

_Much better._

“Bruce!” Gordon waved him over as he sent some officers in. “Don’t take it personal, he’s just like that.”

“Must be busy.”

“Mm.” Gordon looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s been a while, Bruce.”

“It has.”

“Do you want a ride back home?”

“Why not?”

Bruce half expected him to make him ride in the back, but Jim motioned to the passenger side instead. Jim was a steady driver, though his stops were a bit abrupt.

“Any big plans for tonight, Jim?”

“Nothing grand, but I’ll be heading back home to the Missus after this. Promised I’d watch some TV with her. Have some shows she wants me to get into. Never seem to have the time.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Mm. You have any plans, Bruce?”

“Was going to head out to a party, but I think I’ve had enough action tonight.”

“Still haven’t found your match?”

“You would have heard about it if I did. I wouldn’t be able to get the cameras off of us.”

“You could have had some secret wedding or something. That’s what the rich and famous do, isn’t it?”

“True. How’s Barbara doing?”

“Great!” Gordon’s whole face lit up. “She got accepted to Burnsides.”

“Congratulations! She decide on her major yet?”

“No, undecided.”

“Whatever she chooses she’ll be great at it.”

“That, I know for sure. How’s Dick doing?”

“Good, good.” Bruce nodded.

“You’ve got another now, right?”

Bruce hadn’t made a public statement, but that hadn’t stopped the tabloids from catching wind and running with it.

“Yes. Jason.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Getting settled.”

“Mm. I don’t know how you do it all by yourself.”

“I manage.”

“So, what did Dent want from you?”

Jim had been friends with Bruce and Harvey before the incident. Back when Harvey was campaigning. He had never known about Harvey and Bruce’s relationship. They had kept it private and the aftermath civil.

Bruce sighed.

“I’m not sure what he wanted. He seemed conflicted.”

“Isn’t he always, nowadays?”

“Sure. Batman came in before Harvey could really tell me what he wanted, though.”

Bruce watched the buildings pass and be replaced with trees. They’d be at the manor soon.

“Sometimes I wonder where’d we be if Harvey hadn’t cracked.”

“Me too.”

“It’s a damn shame.” Gordon pulled up to the manor’s entrance. “Well, you stay safe, Bruce.”

“You too, Jim.” Bruce climbed out. “Don’t keep your wife waiting.”

Jim nodded and pulled away. Bruce watched him until his tail lights turned down the road. Bruce thought of Clark and sighed. Combat training wasn’t enough. He’d have to give him acting lessons too. Though, saving him as Batman _was_ a good idea. Superman showing up in Gotham would have been… cause for gossip.

Bruce walked into the foyer and knew immediately something was off. A light rustling of fabric. Almost imperceptible if it wasn’t so familiar. Clark was hiding somewhere on the ceiling. Bruce decided to pretend he didn’t notice Clark sneaking up behind him until he felt Clark’s arms wrap around him. Bruce would have leaned back against him if the gauntlets weren’t so distracting.

“You’re still wearing that?”

_“I need to keep my identity a secret, Mr. Wayne. No matter how strong our love is.”_ Clark was also still putting on that ridiculous voice.

“That is _not_ what I sound like. Next time, just keep your mouth shut.”

_“You aren’t acting very grateful for my rescuing you. But I know a way you could thank me…”_ Clark spun him around and dipped him, pushing in for a kiss.

Bruce put a firm hand on his chest, keeping him back.

“You have to understand, Clark, that I find _nothing_ about _this_ sexy.”

_“Well I guess that makes one of us.”_

“ _You-_ Clark, take it off.”

_“If you want it off so bad…”_ Clark brought them out of the dip and spread the cape wide. _“Help yourself.”_

Bruce narrowed his eyes.

“You’re stuck in it, aren’t you?”

“...Alfred put it on so easily, I don’t get it.”

“The latches are designed to be hard to find.”

_“Please_ get me out of this thing.”

Bruce pulled Clark close by the belt. He whispered close to his ear.

_“I’m not stripping you... in the entrance hall.”_ Bruce closed his eyes and knew when he opened them they’d be in the bedroom. The only light leaked in from Gotham far below them.

“Better?”

Bruce smiled and slipped the cowl off. Clark’s hair was a mess and Bruce used it to tug him down into a kiss. The rest of the suit took more concentration to take off. It was muscle memory on himself, but taking it off someone else was stilted.

“So what did Two-Face want? On Match Day? In a private back room of a michelin star restaurant?”

“Jealous?”

“Should I be?”

“He wanted to share marks.”

_“What?”_

“The motivation didn’t make sense to me. It seemed… forced.”

“You don’t think he was just missing the good ol days with Bruce Wayne?”

“...Maybe. He asked if I had matched yet.”

Clark was nearly out of the suit now, just the boots remained. Bruce bent down on one knee, trying not to get distracted by Clark’s obvious desire in front of him.

“What did you tell him?”

“What _should I_ have told him?”

“...That you’re off the market.”

“‘Off the market.’ Did you buy me, Clark?”

“No. Didn’t have to. You’re mine.” Clark was free of the suit at last. Bruce was entirely too clothed.

Bruce licked his lips.

_“...Prove it.”_

Clark thread his hand in Bruce’s hair.

“Come here.”

Bruce stood and waited for Clark to make a move. Clark’s fingers ghosted across his lips, his cheekbone, behind his ear. Bruce wondered what he saw when he looked at him like this. Clark’s lips touched down on his, insistent. He pulled Bruce in by the small of his back and exhaled heavy on his tongue when their hips met.

Bruce wrapped his arms around Clark’s neck as their breath grew heavier. The space between them growing closer, but not close enough. Bruce found himself naked on the bed, chest pressed down to the sheets with Clark kneading into his back. Clark loved to surprise him with bursts of speed like this. They were surprises Bruce actually looked forward to.

Clark’s palms dragged through tense muscle and Bruce groaned into the bed.

“When did you learn to do this?”

“About an hour ago. _Happy Match Day~”_ Clark whispered and kissed the back of his neck.

Clark massaged down from his shoulders, to his back. Traveled down his spine to the dimples at his hips.

Bruce nearly squirmed in anticipation. The transition from kneading his ass to kneading inside of him was fluid and made Bruce’s breath shake. Soon, Clark pulled up Bruce’s hips till his ass was propped up by his knees. Clark kept his head down with a firm hand on the back of his neck. Bruce let out a shallow laugh.

“This ok?”

Bruce swallowed.

“With you? _Always.”_

Clark hummed and scratched at the small hairs on the back of Bruce’s neck. Clark held his hip steady and drove into him. Bruce let out a sound and clutched the pillow under him. Clark let him have it.

_You really were jealous, weren’t you?_

A smile tugged at Bruce’s lips when he peered back and caught Clark’s eyes. Clark paused his thrusts to drape across his back, pushing in deeper, and met Bruce’s mouth in a searing kiss. After that, Clark’s composure slipped, his thrusts growing more ragged and harder. He grabbed blindly for Bruce’s arm, sliding his palm against his bare wrist before finally slotting their fingers together.

_Clark. You always care so much._

If Bruce was sappier he’d think about how they were two “unmatched” men having a better time than any others on this often depressing holiday. Instead, the unfiltered joy he felt at Clark’s attention had him sucking Clark’s lower lip and his thighs trembling. Clark stroked him and he was undone, a shuddering mess husking a note into Clark’s open mouth. Clark finished, scattering hurried kisses across Bruce’s face and neck.

The two fell against each other, clinging. Gotham blinked on in the distance.

_...Yours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully.....next chapter....won't take as long..... Wanna be finished with this fic some point this year.  
> Completely unrelated question that definitely won't have an impact on future chapters: Who do y'all ship Dick Grayson with? Or just like, who do you think would be a good fit for him?


	6. Tell Me How You Really Feel

Clark woke up the next day sprawled out on the bed, sun warming him. Bruce wasn’t there. He couldn’t hear him. What he heard instead was the text alert on his phone. Clark rolled over to reach it.

_ Dick? _

  * Can I talk to you about something? 



_ Something about Bruce? College? _

          * Of course!




Dick pondered his response for a full minute, ellipsis starting and stopping, before hitting send.

  * actually can I just call you?
          * Whatever works for you



The call came through a second later.

“Hi, Dick. What’s going on?”

“Um, well. I went on a date yesterday and it went… terribly- _ It was a disaster _ \- uh,  _ don’t _ bother Bruce with this. Please.”

“Ok. Tell me about it.”

“You know Starfire?”

“Oh! Yes, you were in the Titans together.”

“Yeah.. and I thought maybe we could team up in  _ other ways, _ you know? -Like, well uh,  _ you’re _ an alien, you don’t care about soulmates, and I thought maybe  _ she _ wouldn’t either.”

“Different species, different culture.”

“Yeah, I should have talked to her about that  _ before  _ I asked her out... She was so excited about going out for Match Day it kind of got my hopes up.”

“So what happened?”

“It went great, until it didn’t. She was just excited to,” he sighed, “ _ ‘experience an Earth custom in the traditional way.’  _ She wasn’t actually… interested in being serious… with  _ me.  _ Her species has some kind of… arranged marriage thing going on? Like her parents choose her match?”

“I’m sorry, Dick. I’m proud of you for trying though.”

“...Thanks, Clark.”

“Not that I mind, at all, but why talk to  _ me _ about this?”

“Well I can’t exactly tell my friends around here about it. Even if I’m vague about the super aspect, it’d be hard to explain trying to date someone regardless of match… and Bruce has never been open with talking about this kind of stuff.”

“He might surprise you.”

“How? By telling me to  _ ‘focus on my studies?’ _ We don’t all have access to that emotional fortress.”

“Well-”

_ “‘Oh, Clark, baby, honey, I love you.’  _ What’s that like?”

Clark laughed, “ _ Nothing _ like that.”

“Wait. Has he not said the ‘L’ word yet?”

“Um-“

“Oh my god. Of course he hasn’t. I don’t know if I’ve  _ ever _ heard him say it.”

It was a fact Clark was well aware of, but it hadn’t bothered him. Much.

“It’s hard for him-”

“Oh, sure, it’s  _ hard  _ for him.”

“To  _ verbalise  _ it. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”

“Mm I guess I see what you mean.”

“You know he loves you, right?”

“...Yeahhhh, I know.”

“Hey, don’t let this Starfire thing get you down. You’re young, and amazing, and if an ‘emotional fortress’ can do it, you’re going to have no problem.”

Dick laughed. “Ok, yeah, you’re right.”

“Now don’t you have some studying to do?”

“Ugh don’t remind me... Hey, how’s the new kid doing?”

* * *

 

Jason’s hits pounded off the worn leather. Bruce watched on, arms crossed.

“Jab.”

Jason struck out with his left hand.

“Cross.”

He followed with a blow using his dominant right.

“Punch  _ through _ it.”

“I know.” Jason threw himself into the next punch, almost stumbling when his legs crossed.

“Check your stance. It’s all for nothing when your balance is off.”

“I  _ know.” _ Jason scowled at the punching bag and threw an even sloppier punch.

“Stop.”

“Why?”

“You’re distracted.” Bruce stilled the swinging bag. “What’s on your mind?”

Jason wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve. “Nothing. I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

_ “Jason.” _

He huffed and looked away. “It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not. You can tell me.”

“When did you get your soulmark?”

Bruce blinked. Jason’s arms were crossed, hiding his left wrist. The wrist Bruce knew was still pale.

“I don’t have one.”

“What?” Jason’s face twisted, “What about Clark?”

“We aren’t soulmates.”

_ “What?” _

“Clark and I are barewristed.”

_ “Bullshit!” _

Bruce took off his bracelet and Jason was stunned into silence.

“Soulmates aren’t everything. If you never get a mark… you’ll be fine.”

They were the words Bruce wished he had heard when he was Jason’s age.

Jason grew pensive, looking at his own bare wrist. “...I thought only bad guys were barewristed.”

“I used to think that too, but I know plenty of criminals  _ with  _ soulmarks.”

Jason looked up at him.

“A soulmark, or lack of one, doesn’t define you. It’s your  _ choices _ that define you.”

“Hm.”

“Anything else holding you back?”

Jason shook his head, giving his wrist a last glance before dropping it.

“Then let’s try something different.”

* * *

Talking with Dick got Clark thinking. About several things. But what was most pressing was Jason. The kid seemed to be doing better. His hair was cut short, he was smiling more, and he had actually been attending his classes this week. Still, he felt it was a good idea to check on how he was doing this weekend.

Clark finally found him in the training room where an obstacle course had been set up. Mats and platforms mimicked rooftops and half-walls. Bruce watched Jason run through it with a furrowed brow and crossed arms.

“Bruce...” Clark made his way next to him, “What are you doing?”

“Training.” Bruce didn’t take his eyes off Jason for even a second.

Jason vaulted over a mat with a huff.

“Is this necessary?”

“He needs focus.”

_ Focus? _

“It’s like gymnastics or jiu jitsu. Regular teenagers do that.”

Clark continued to give him a look.

“What? I’m not  _ making  _ him do it.”

Clark scoffed. “If he  _ wants _ to do gymnastics, you could just sign him up for it.  _ This,”  _ Clark pointed, “is combat training.”

“I’m teaching him what I know.”

_ “Why _ does he need to know that?”

Bruce finally looked at him. “What don’t you approve of here, exactly?”

“Isn’t he a little young for crime fighting?”

“Dick was younger. You didn’t seem to have a problem with that.”

“...I guess I hadn’t thought that hard about it.”

“I guess you still haven’t.”

_ Wow. _

Bruce chanced a glance back at him and he deflated a bit.

“Clark, I’ve seen that anger in him before. What it can do to people. It’s not pretty. He needs to have a way to channel it. And we haven’t even decided if he’ll be taking  _ this  _ any further.”

Jason growled in frustration, drawing their attention. The wall was too high for him to jump and he was having trouble finding a foothold.

“Can’t he have a different way to channel it?”

“Like what?”

“...Baking?”

Bruce laughed through his nose.

“If you’d like to suggest that, be my guest.”

_ Ok, maybe baking is more of a “make it with love” activity. _

_ “Fuck!”  _ Jason’s hand slipped while trying to pull himself up.

“Jason. Drop down.” Bruce jogged over to him.

Jason relented, landing back down on the mat, catching his breath.

“Plot your course before you start climbing.” Bruce put his hand on his shoulder. “Look. Where do you see footholds?”

“...There,” Jason pointed, “And there.”

“Good. Now, try again.”

Jason backed up to get a running start and made it up the wall in no time.

“Yes!” Jason stood at the top, fists raised, and beaming.

_ Maybe you do know what you’re doing, Bruce. _

“Good. Go another round and we’ll see-” Bruce was cut off by an alert on his wrist. He checked it and whipped around.  _ “Clark,  _ it’s Bizarro.”

 

When they found Bizarro in Metropolis, he was carrying a bus full of people, attempting to whistle.

“How do you want to do this?” Bruce watched Bizarro from their vantage point.

“Let me talk to him first.”

Bizarro was destructive, but he was never maliciously so. He was just… misguided. Clark approached him cautiously.

“Bizarro?”

Bizarro turned, spinning the whole bus with him. “Who you?”

_ I thought we cleared this up the last three times? _

“Bizarro, I’m Superman. Now please put-”

_ “Me  _ am Superman!” Bizarro pointed, “You phoney!”

“Ok. Superman-”

“Me kill bus!” Bizarro lifted the bus higher. The citizens inside screamed as it rattled.

Clark paused, processing.

_ Oh, we’re doing opposites today? _

“Uh, bad job. Bring that… higher.”

Bizarro put the bus down on the street sideways, officially cutting off traffic. “Bad bus! Pat pat!” Each pat left a hefty dent in the metal.

“Horrible work, Superman. Now-”

“You am no welcome! Me find others to kill now!” Bizarro sped off towards downtown. “Hi!”

_ Oh great. _

“That went well.” Bruce was smirking up at him from the sidewalk.

“Looks like we’re babysitting today.”

“We should get him a leash.”

“Will a rope suffice?” Diana emerged from a taxi.

“Wonder Woman! What are you doing here?”

“I had other plans in Metropolis today, but they can wait if you don’t mind me joining.”

“Let’s catch up to him, shall we?” Bruce was growing impatient.

Clark swooped down and carried Bruce with an arm around his shoulders. The three stopped down the street from Bizarro. He seemed to still be looking for someone or something to ‘kill.’ Which really meant he wanted to  _ save _ somebody… in his own way. Metropolis had been quiet before he arrived.

Diana was at the ready with her rope, “Do we have a plan?”

“I have one.” Bruce spoke up.

Bizarro started to turn their way.

“Wait-” Clark ushered them into the nearby covered bus stop to avoid being spotted, “Ok, let’s hear it.”

“We distract him and stop any of his helping from becoming deadly while Diana, you restrain him with your lasso.” Bruce turned to Clark, “But, it may be easier said than done.”

“How so?”

“Hard to aim when there’s no way to tell you two apart.”

“Oh, _ haha.” _

“It’s uncanny.”

Clark shook his head and looked back to Bizarro,“Tell me how you really feel.”

“I love you.”

Clark whipped back around to see Bruce clamp his mouth shut. His eyes were the widest he’d ever seen them. Behind him, Diana’s hand was over her smile.

“My apologies!” She lifted her lasso away from Bruce, “You were leaning against it!”

Clark laughed with his whole body. The look on Bruce’s face was just too good.

Bruce took out a batarang, looking away, “Are we doing this or not?”

Clark tried his best to compose himself, “I think I have a better idea.”

 

Bruce and Diana screamed, falling dramatically onto the street. Bizarro’s attention was redirected from an old woman on the street corner.

Clark approached him, doubled-over and holding his side, “Hey, Superman!”

“That am me!”

“We need your help! He was… too powerful.”

“Who am?”

“He might be too powerful for you.”

“NO! Me Superman! Me worst! Me kill you!”

“He went that way!” Clark pointed up to the sky.

“He real good guy?”

“...The goodest.”

“HM!” Bizarro steeled his brow and clapped his hand on Clark’s stooped shoulder, “Me come back right away. No worry.”

“Break a leg, Superman.”

“ME WILL!” And with that Bizarro took off and zipped out of the atmosphere.

“Well that will occupy him for awhile.” Clark stood up straight and turned to see Diana and Bruce dusting themselves off. “Sorry this wasn’t more eventful for you, Diana.”

“Nonsense, it was my pleasure.” Diana smiled at Bruce and made her exit.

Clark made his way to Bruce, they both knew where this was heading.

“Wait.” Bruce cleared his throat.

Clark stilled his arm.

“Your place is closer.”

Clark embraced him and within a few seconds they were standing in his apartment, blinds drawn. It suddenly hit him that this was the first time Bruce had ever been there.

“So,” Clark unlatched Bruce’s cowl and pulled it off, “you love me.”

Bruce’s half lidded eyes crinkled as his smile grew, “Apparently.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Redacted excuse for this taking so long] I'm always worried about how extensive this fic is gonna be and then I just add more stuff to it anyway.


	7. I Found Your Weakness

_ Of course I love you. _

It felt so obvious now. Why had he doubted it for so long?

Clark was still studying his face, but the space between them grew smaller, shortened with every breath. 

_ Clark, I couldn’t help but love you. _

One last huff against Clark’s lips and they were together. Quickly getting lost in each other. Their suits fell apart piece by piece. A gauntlet falling to the rug. A cape draping across the couch. A new part stripped away with each step backward. The scattered path trailed into the bedroom.

Bruce was lifted up by strong hands on his thighs. Clark picked him up like it was nothing and it got his heart pounding like no other. A clack of teeth and a greedy pull on kiss swollen lips. Bruce’s back hit the sheets and Clark wasted no time in grabbing his hips and enveloping his dick in his mouth.

“Gah!” Bruce rocked up into wet heat, head back and back arched.

Clark laved at him slow and Bruce’s toes curled.

_ Yes yes yes- _

Clark’s mouth around him kept him tongue tied for longer than Bruce would ever admit. And making noises he would never repeat outside this context. And-  _ oh shit. _

Clark’s cheeks hollowed around him and Bruce suddenly needed more. Needed to feel more of Clark. His weight on top of him.  _ Something _ .

Bruce tugged at Clark’s hair,  _ “Wait.”  _ Bruce panted.  He thrust up as Clark popped off of him.

“What?” Clark smacked his tongue.

Bruce took a second, hips rolling against Clark’s steady hand where his hip met his thigh. He licked his lips, finally holding his hand out, “Come here.”

Clark chuckled and climbed further onto the bed, settling down into a needy kiss. Bruce writhed against him, sucking and panting and clawing down his back. Clark shifted above him, hand sliding between them and  _ lower. _

_ Yes. _

Bruce angled his hips up and locked his feet at the base of Clark’s spine. Bruce didn’t notice when Clark got the lube out, but he must have. Fingers easing him open. His focus was slipp-  _ oh yes just like that. _

Bruce took in a sharp breath,  _ “Clark, fuck me.” _

Clark’s fingers stilled inside him, “Oh, wait, Bruce… you wanted  _ me  _ to-”

Bruce growled, tugging sharply on his hair.

“Shh, you love~ me.” Clark planted kisses across Bruce’s neck until the growl turned into a purr.

Bruce couldn’t see it but he knew Clark was smiling. That big dumb  _ beautiful  _ smile, pressing kisses down his neck. Bruce rolled up against him. Another laugh out of Clark and Bruce finally got what he wanted.

“Ahhhhh-“ Bruce clung tighter as Clark drove into him slowly. The pressure building made him exhale in huffs. “ _ Clark,  _ mmove.”

Clark kissed him chaste on the cheek. He brought his hips back in a slow roll that crashed back into him like a wave. Each slide out brought a deeper thrust in and Bruce writhed with it. All thoughts narrowed to this room, this bed,  _ Clark.  _ The world was small and warm and  _ slick _ and  _ it was everything. _

Clark’s breath grew heavy by his ear.  _ “Bruce...”  _  He pressed kisses along Bruce’s jaw.

Bruce felt it bloom in his chest and now he  _ knew  _ the word. Love. Big and beautiful and terrifying and  _ complete.  _ He wanted to feel this for hours. Forever. But he didn’t know if he’d be able to survive that. It was  _ so much. _

Bruce’s legs started to shake and he knew he was close, fingers wrapped in Clark’s hair.

_ “Clark-ah-” _

Clark’s waves became a storm and Bruce was swept to sea, thrashing, clawing, kneading. Bruce came on a yell. His body twitched in the aftermath, bolts of pleasure wracking through him as Clark finished. Bruce opened his eyes when Clark slid out of him. His face was so close, his smile unguarded and  _ beautiful. _

They kissed and Bruce held Clark’s face in his hands.

* * *

 

Clark woke up to Bruce still clinging to him, shuffling closer. His hair was sticking up on the side he must have slept on. Clark wrapped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Mm.” Bruce’s nose knocked against Clark’s chin.

Clark felt him exhale against his neck. They didn’t have any plans. They could take their time.

Clark sighed and carded through Bruce’s hair, “When did you know?”

“Mm?”

“That you loved me.”

Bruce shifted, right hand splaying across Clark’s chest.

When he answered his voice was still thick with sleep, “Didn’t know for sure until I said it.”

“Hm, you do like your ‘facts.’” Clark clasped over his hand, rubbing along a thin scar that ran across his knuckles.

Bruce swallowed, “When did  _ you _ know, then?”

“It was a couple weeks before Joker shot you-”

“Which time?”

_ "You know  _ what time.”

Bruce snickered and rubbed his face against Clark's neck.

“We were sleeping together and you were having a nightmare. I wanted to help you and you snuggled right up to me and calmed down.”

“I do  _ not ‘snuggle.’” _

Clark snorted, “What are we doing right now, then?”

“Conserving body heat.” The smile was obvious in his voice.

Clark gave him another quick peck on the forehead, “I love you.”

“Mm,” Bruce sighed, “I love you too.”

_ So you don’t need the rope to say it. _

An unignorable warmth bloomed impossibly harder in Clark’s chest. He rolled them so he was on top, closing in for a kiss, morning breath be damned. A knock at the door brought them to a stop.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, “Expecting someone?”

Clark glanced through the walls.

“Lois?” Clark looked to Bruce as if he would know why she was there.

“Well, are you going to keep her waiting?”

Clark stole a kiss, “I’ll be right back.”

He used his super speed, slipping into some clothes and getting a spare pair of glasses from his desk. He tossed the scattered pieces of their costumes in his closet and shut the bedroom door behind him. His glasses were pushed farther up his face and the front door finally opened to Lois, tapping her foot.

“Oh! Lois! What brings you here?”

“You forget how to answer your phone, Smallville?”

“Oh, uh,”  _ I left it at Bruce’s yesterday,  _ “must have forgot to charge it, sorry.”

“It’s ok. I just… with Bizarro and… well you’ll see when you get a chance. It’s no big deal.”

Clark rubbed at his bed head, “Sorry I got you worried.”

“Like I said, it’s no big deal. I’m just-” Lois’s eyes darted behind Clark. “Oh!”

Bruce was going for the coffee maker, wearing Clark’s clothes: a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt he got from volunteer work in college.

“Uh-“

“Oh, hello!” Bruce pretended to just notice them in the doorway, “Clark, were you going to introduce us?”

Clark shuffled out from between them. Lois was obviously holding back whatever she was thinking.

“Lois, this is my partner, Bruce.”

“Bruce  _ Wayne _ .” Lois kept glancing back to Clark.

Bruce flashed his most charming smile as he shook her hand.

“I know, my reputation precedes me. Don’t trust what the papers say. You know how journalists are.” Bruce elbowed Clark, “I loved your article on Arkham though. That place  _ is  _ in need of some serious reform.”

“Right… Well I should get going. I  _ am _ glad I finally got to meet your secret boyfriend, Clark.” The look she leveled on him was clear.  _ We’re talking about this later. _

“I’m glad I got to meet the famous Lois Lane too. We should get dinner some time. My treat.”

“I’ll have to take you up on that. Take it easy, you two.”

“See you at work, Lois.”

Clark closed the door when she turned to leave. Bruce had a shit eating grin on his face.

“You-“

“Yes, Smallville?”

Clark pounced on him, knocking them onto the couch and tickling his sides.

“Ah!” Bruce tried to shirk out of his grasp, laughing without any restraint.

“I found your weakness!”

“I’m not-ticklish! It’s-the fact you thought to do this-“ Bruce got caught up in his laughter again, covering his face.

“Likely story.” Clark kissed his smile and then down to his neck.

Bruce arched up, his laughter sighing out of him.

 

* * *

 

_ You’re my weakness. _

Bruce could feel it. The bond between them growing stronger each day. He was falling deeper every time they were alone together. 

It was hard to get used to. The idea that he could be happy. That he could  _ let himself  _ be happy. But dammit he wanted it. He ached to get used to it, but his mind couldn’t settle on it. It was just too good to be true and Bruce knew it was only a matter of time before something came along to ruin it.

Joker’s words would cycle back through his mind every so often. But the clown had been quiet. Locked up in Arkham for weeks now. Not even a single report of bad behavior. He was bound to be planning something big. Or maybe the plan was to just mess with his head without lifting a finger. Even without Joker, the life he had chosen to live was unpredictable. He’d never be able to let his guard down.

Bruce took the elevator to the Batcave, preparing for a night of patrol. The doors slid open to reveal Jason practicing with some batarangs. A blade sunk deep into a practice dummy’s head.

“Aim for the extremities. Non lethal.” Bruce passed by on his way to his suit.

Jason pulled the batarang out with a grunt, “You just don’t want to admit my aim is perfect.”

“No headshots.”

Jason got back into position and let the batarang fly. It sunk squarely into one of the dummy’s hands. He gave Bruce a look.  _ Well? _

“Good.”

“Are you going out right now?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I come?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not ready yet.”

“Not ready? Wasn’t the other Robin younger than me when he started? I’m almost 16!”

“It’s not up for discussion.”

“When  _ will _ it be?”

“It’s late. You have school tomorrow.”

“Screw school-“

_ “Jason.” _

“...I know I’m ready.”

Bruce paused then turned to face him head on, “Prove it.”

Jason hesitated. Silence hung off the stalactites above. He ran forward, fists at the ready. Bruce dodged to the side easily, wrapping Jason into a headlock with his next step. Jason struggled against him. He was definitely stronger than when they started, but he needed to be smarter. Brute strength wasn’t going to be on his side for awhile, nor would it ever be something one could solely rely on.

Bruce let him go. “Not tonight.”

Jason stared at him hard before stomping over to the elevator.

* * *

 

“Riddle me thi-”

A swift knock to the back of the head and the encounter was over. Bruce had found the hidden back entrance to the Riddler’s maze, completely bypassing the entirely too elaborate and pointless tasks Nigma had set up for him. Bruce almost felt bad.  _ Almost. _

Maybe if he had nothing promising to go home to that night he would have indulged in picking through his “riddles” one by one. But as things stood and Gotham now quiet...

 

Clark was fast asleep in Bruce’s bed, his laptop open by his hand. If Bruce had fallen asleep in the same position he would be paying for it with an ache in his neck for hours.

Bruce considered how to wake him up and settled on rocking the bed as much as possible when getting on it.

“Hm? Hey.” Clark rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter.

Bruce considered him for a moment, “Do you even  _ need _ to sleep?”

“Technically no, but I like to.”

Bruce paused, “You don’t need to sleep.”

“I get my energy from the sun.”

_ “You don’t need to sleep.” _

“No, I don’t need to sleep.”

Bruce’s expression was deadly serious. He put his hands on either side of Clark’s face and touched their foreheads together.

“ _ Give me your powers _ .”

Clark laughed and wrapped his arm around Bruce’s waist, enjoying the closeness.

“If you had my powers you’d be insufferable.”

“Unstoppable.”

“You’d be a menace.”

Bruce rolled over onto his side with a huffed laugh, “I change my mind.”

“Hm?”

“I’d have to go out before dark.” Bruce scratched at Clark’s sideburn.

“I guess that  _ would _ be a deal breaker.” Clark leaned into his hand, “How was your night?”

“Fine… Jason’s getting a bit restless.”

“Oh?”

“He wants to be Robin. Apparently.”

“Was that not your plan?”

“It wasn’t at the start. He has potential, just not yet.”

“Hm. We should do something… not work related.”

“Oh?”

“Something fun. With Jason. We never hang out.”

“He’s a teenager, he doesn’t want to ‘hang out’ with adults.” 

“You’d be surprised, Bruce. He’s spent so much time by himself, and when you  _ do  _ spend time with him it’s training. He needs some time to just be a kid.”

“Hmm.” Bruce rested his head on Clark’s shoulder, “Did you have something in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a few more chapters here with fun and games before the plot really starts to hit the fan.  
> xoxo


End file.
